'I'm gonna draw a picture, <br />a picture with a twist, <br />I'll draw it with a razor blade, <br />I'll draw it on my wrist'. <br /> <br />And when my soul bleeds out, <br />and my shirt is soaked and stained, <br />you can read me like a book, <br />you can see all of my pain. <br /> <br />Feel the dripping of my blood, <br />the thick red flow, <br />feel sadness gushing from my veins, <br />dark red and slow. <br /> <br />The razor sets my arm on fire, <br />the burning and the stinging, <br />but I push the blade deeper, <br />It stops the raucous singing. <br /> <br />Voices sing 'more, more, more'... <br />bleed dark red, <br />then my world starts spinning, <br />as they dance around my head. <br /> <br />They sing 'more, more, more' <br />bleed dark red, <br />I know they will not stop the singing, <br />until I bleed dark and dead. <br /> <br />I close my eyes and cry, <br />In the dark is where it starts, <br />where a finger is released <br />by the hand squeezing my heart. <br /> <br /> <br />When the voices go away, <br />that's when I open up my eyes, <br />Into a world of darkness, <br />where bleeding stops my cries. <br /> <br />After I bleed out, <br />I allow the cuts to seal, <br />though the scars seem to fade, <br />my insides never heal... <br /> <br />So that's when I draw a picture, <br />a picture with a twist, <br />I use a sharper razor blade, <br />on my other wrist.<br /><br />careema cooper<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dark-red/
