Blood of Red

My tears flow from my wrist

As freely as those from my eyes

Only I cry blood

Not water.

Slit, slit, slit that wrist

Deeper and deeper I go.

The pain drives me crazy

While proving (to me) I'm not insane.

So bleed, bleed, all over the floor

Bleed until there's no blood left to bleed anymore

You'd think that'd be enough

But no.

Deeper, deeper, deeper I go

The blood of red on skin of snow

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The blood now marks the floor, the carpet, the stairs

But do I really care?

Climbing up, each step bringing me closer

To another cut, another slit, another scar

My arm a red and tattered mess

No room left to slice

Not yet satisfied

Now, on to the left...