stained

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: May 31, 2017

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Submitted: May 31, 2017

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The waters clear, but your wrists are stained,

Angry red lines from the slicing blade.

Blackness creeps across the sky;

As darkness breaths it’s sickening sigh

Demons rising from their slumber as angles fade.

 

Terrifying thoughts fill your brain

They whirl and scream until it drives you insane.

You listen and follow, their request won’t be denied.

The waters clear, but your wrists are stained.

 

You curse the dark, longing for the light of day

Yet when the light calls, you run away.

You’re back in the darkness, it’s where you hide;

To cover the emotions you feel deep down inside.

What would happen if you ceased to feel afraid?

Still, the waters clear, but your wrists are stained.


© Copyright 2017 Abigail Halfmann. All rights reserved.

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