Pink Water.2
Blood stains everything,
Everywhere.
It has stained my hands
My hair, my shower.
But tears,
They’re invisible.
But carry much more of me than blood,
As tears fall,
I lose myself,
As tears fall,
I slowly leave.
But blood,
My matter,
What flows through me,
With slow pumps,
Awakes me.
It carries my mother,
My father, my past,
It rids me of them,
I stand alone.
Tears for they wound me,
Blood for their hate.
Tears for my incompetence,
Blood for my pain.
Mixed together,
They end me.
This poem is about:
Me