I donating my plasma TV to the Blood Drive.
People don't understandBlood must flow for blood Before it can allow waterBut in the endIt will all turn to ice
They can see through the glassOur lips are dripping blood From telling all these liesAnd we both knowThat we've really done it this timeP.H
Never sure which, flows in my veins, think it may be blood, but there's no colour when it spills.~LC~
Fearful of crimson Clouds emulate blood risenUneasy vision
my blood is like honey on bonesit drips down like an ice cream cone
My blood freezes, threaded through my icy veins
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?
Blood must not merely follow routine, must notjust flow as the veins' uninterruptedriver. Sometimes it must flood the eyes,surprise them by being clear as water.
Last Valentine's day I donated 3.3 liters of blood.Enough to replace the 7.7 pounds of red rosesyou bled when you found out I loved myselfmore than I loved you.It killed me.