Blood
I can hear the clock ticking.
My ears are bleeding.
I hear your voice in my head.
I am choking on my spit and you're snickering.
I wish I could hate you.
You revel in the blood pouring from my veins.
There's a drop in temperature, and I know you're here.
My blood is cold.
I drop dead, and you're laughing.
This poem is about:
Me
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: