guilt In this world of bitter endings I wish to only see the blood on my wrist Slit by my own hands As it snakes down to drip
A shape it makes on the floor A bloody torn heart Still pulsing with old love It convulses, choking on it's own blood
I watch disinterested, hallucinations are child's play to me now In this world of bitter endings I'm just another one
Infused with systematic rage The blood keeps dripping The very sound irritates me I tear at the wound, ripping it further and further Feeling the slick red liquid seeping into my fingertips I can't stop the exhilaration
The blade nearby only tempts me more I lick my lips, they're dry And the blade skims my skin once more Leaving another red trail
For Dorothy to find her way home? In this world of bitter endings Dorothy never returns to Kansas She lies in a puddle of blood, clutching her injured side, gazing sadly at her shoes.
Glee is in my veins, I glance at the blood I slip and trip at the blood I hit my head, there's more blood There's no more pain, no sadness
There's a strange fascination That overtakes one so near to the end A bitter end, just another one In this world of bitter endings I glance weakly at my wrists, unable to differentiate blood in my eyes and blood on the floor everywhere, blood here, there.
My last thought? If only.
chiiyo's comments :
*eyes sparkle* *Lili is a closet morbid person* Ooh... so much blood... This was a depressed poem. Duh. Unlike most of my other poems, this one was pretty graphic. I was angry, I believe, when I wrote this, angry and disillusioned. Some of the extended imagery still make me ponder at the state of my mind when I wrote this. For example, the one about the bloody heart on the floor, convulsing. Very visual. The one about Dorothy too, a sudden inspiration, I like how it ends sadly. I must admit though, it was a pretty abrupt way to end it all...