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Click hereLow down and lying in the dirt,
Covered in shit waist deep.
Laughing about something,
But it lodges in my throat.
I guess it wasn’t that funny.
Maybe it’s just me.
Bloody wrist goes drip-drip
Over the sink, into the basin.
Look at the blood flowing through the water,
Just look at it. Isn’t it pretty?
Maybe it’s just me.
Maybe this is all my fault.
God damn it, that stings.
Feels so good to feel some pain
After being so numb for so long.
I shouldn’t have punched the window.
It was already too cold in here.
Now it’s even colder.
Too cold.
Too damned cold.
I used to like the cold.
I guess I’ve changed.
Most likely for the worse…
- COMMENTS
LeBrozover 16 years agoThis poem was mentioned in the Archival Review thread, in a picking through Lit's archive of over 37,000 poems.
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