Without you
Glinting in the sunless light, Cold blade looks on with cruel sight. Lines of red streak my proffered hands, Helpless veins devoured by greedy bands. Bleeding and torn but with no relief, Instead tears flow as if without belief. I question myself if it is wise To sever to almost an inch of my cord of life. Then again, It was about the choice of pain, Never a choice of whether the action was wise or right, Even though I knew that it proved that I was in a bad plight. Loss of control was imminent,... Sign in to see full entry.