And so.

It is warm.
Hot even, let it flow.
The blood that flows out of me.
Let it go.

Let it flood a river.
Come cascading down my spine.
Let it drip.
Drip down till it floods.

It’s cold.
Cold as frost.
The pane on my window.
Frozen in dusk.

I’ll gulp it down.
So no one shall see it.
The salty mess I’ve created.
A puddle.

I don’t feel a thing.
Not a thing in this cold.
No longer feel the blood in my veins.
Nor the cold on my finger tips.
Just emptiness.
A void consumed
Waiting for the light to come
awaiting.

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5 thoughts on “And so.

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