So today, I'm quite sick of life and living.

Fresh blood.

Fresh blood.

Where did it all go wrong
when did it all start

I look down at my arm and see it
the fresh blood

Can't remember how they got there
all the scars on my arm

All I know is that
they are there

So I look down at it
the fresh blood

Some people may ask questions
some may simply turn their face away

Living is a pain
cutting makes it easier

I press the knife deeper
So as to get more

Fresh blood.

Poetry by Nyorioko
Read 435 times
Written on 2008-03-31 at 19:59

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