Whose blood is it, anyway?
Deyalyn Batista
Deyalyn Batista
May 20      May 20

My hands are red and sticky from trying too hard,
I can feel them losing grip around your wrists.
Whose blood is it, anyway?
Dripping on the concrete,
Swirling down the drain,
Staining our soles.
Is it mine or is it yours?

#love   #blood  
Blood is made for promising:
Mara Myfanwy Warlow

Blood is made for promising:
I will keep my blood
I will love my family
And I will love my blood.
I have but lonely pints of blood
And pints of lovely life.
one glass incardenine
To sip for all time,
And make it last all night.
I will not fill my blood with wine
Or rage or boiling spite.
For when I am done
the blood shall run
And love shall step aside.

#love   #death   #blood   #family  
Josiah Wilson
Josiah Wilson
Jul 30, 2013

Rushing through my veins
Pumping to my heart
Driving me insane

Giving me this life
Giving me my breath
Filling me with strife

Why am I still standing?
What do I have here?
Why am I so different?
I am only a mere
Filled with blood
Filled with flesh
And all these bones

Flooding my insides
Filling up my lungs
There's nowhere I can hide

From this...

#dark   #insanity   #blood   #human  
Letting them feed on the drops of blood pouring down my arm
I wish I could cry

I have cages below me
I float above them
My antigravitational force being my belief that I am superior
U take my blade and look at the captives in my cages
It seems to be close to feeding time
They are
Throwing themselves agaisnt my cages
So I take out my blade
Letting them feed on the drops of blood pouring down my arm
They are sated

Lityle so they know


Blood must not merely follow routine, must no
Jun 10

Blood must not merely follow routine, must not
just flow as the veins' uninterrupted
river. Sometimes it must flood the eyes,
surprise them by being clear as water.

#love   #poetry   #eyes   #pain   #blood   #river  
My own blood trickling down my arm
Mar 26

There is nothing more comforting than warmth
Rays of sun painting my cheeks red
Blistering campfires that tickle my toes
My own blood trickling down my arm
As I looked into the bathroom mirror I felt nothing but
Toxic words that had been spat at me disappeared down the sink
A blurry fist fight faded to memory
My black eye and bleeding nose ceased to pain me
All I felt was the red blanket coating my arm
It doesn't hurt
I feel nothing
Silver pens write terrible tragedies in red ink
But they also write happier endings for troubled minds
I am my own demise
My destruction
There is no conductor and my train is off the rails
Spinning, racing out of control
And stopping at a red light
Red lights that pool into one in my palm
Translucent, reflecting the light above me
I see red
I feel warm
I taste fate
She can't hurt me as long as I am warm

I will leave this world with no blood on my hands but my own.


I love?
Your          POSION
dear one
It numbs mine?!

Jul 10      Jul 11

Under the spell
Of that heavenly taste
Welcome to hell
With an angels embrace

I will watch you

#love   #dark   #evil   #blood   #seduction   #twisted   #subversion  
floor as he fell, too, and watched the blood flow from his head.
Blood Word
Blood Word
Mar 15, 2012

I once struck a man in anger, with a small statuette.
I dropped it to the floor as he fell, too, and watched the blood flow from his head.
Though as I gazed at the pool of crimson and began to realize what I had done,
I felt a snap and saw a vision:

I saw every drop of his blood.
It was inside his body, flowing, coursing, full of life and giving life.
He grew to raise a family, love his wife, and love his kids.
He helped his coworkers and encouraged them.
He donated to charities, and those charities helped many.
Some of those many improved their lives and helped many more.
As his sons, daughters, wife, and coworkers also were given life by him and gave life,
I saw his blood flow into their veins and spread, infecting countless others with love.
Houses filled with light and laughter
Streets were peopled by happy beings.
A woman comforted a girl in the loss of a friend, holding the sobbing face to her caring chest.
A poor man gave his only coat to a cold orphan boy on the curb, smiling through weathered lips.
I saw all this life,
And it was an ocean.

A flash of light and sound, and I saw another vision:

I saw every drop of his blood.
It was outside his body, flowing, coursing, void of life and stealing life.
As it touched me, I joined it as blood, boiling and bubbling with hate.
As our blood ran down the busy metropolis street of life, it would touch people it came across.
When it did so, they would melt also into a mass of red, splashing outward, and infecting others.
Everyone touched would gasp and turn to scarlet, turning the shop-lined street into a river of blood.
Countless lives were consumed in this manner.
At one point, I finally pooled at the bottom of the street, and stared back from where I came.
The street was now dark and desolate, the bustling life gone.
The shops empty, the skies grey, the ground littered.
A finch plucked strands from a red-stained straw hat, to make a bed of death.
A mangy alley dog lapped up the blood that still coated the street, becoming only more hideous.
And all was quiet, and I was utterly alone, but for the screams of their blood in my ears.
I saw all this death,
And it was an ocean.

A jolt, and I opened my eyes.
I found myself staring at the blood running from the man’s head in front of me.
A few seconds later and I realized again what I had done.
But I realized something else as well.
I tore my shirt and tightly wrapped his head in the cloth.
I lifted him up and took him to the hospital.
There I sat and awaited my punishment.
And took joy in life.

I finished part 2 before the first part, so I'm posting it now. Part 1 is still in the works.

This poem was written March 15, 2012.
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