Sara E. P.

Blood Thought

Copyright Sara E. P.

I drop my blood, like one afflicted
With some dread disease, which I suppose;
I am.
Somehow it calms me, not as
Though it brought happiness or even
Sanity.
But releases the bad, inhuman blood
Inside of me which makes me who
I am.
Traces shapes along my skin, red
Raw and shining. Bright and new, some
Sick and twisted sun.
Standing out against the bleak, tired
Expanse of my grey skin, throbbing gently
To remind.
I’m still alive, I don’t know how;
Exposing my insides to this poisonous
Cruel world.
Licking my self-made wounds
Like an insulted cat; a stray going
Nowhere. Home.

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