I've been waiting-
For the life that's draining
from these veins-
To come alive and revive me again.

These cuts are a violating-
obsessive compulsive disorder
I cannot, refrain.

As I stare down at the blackness
of my blood.
I wonder if this is all-
that I am made up of.

It's as though little streams
of water are running down my
legs.
The scent of copper, and the warmth
of the sun.

I can feel it on my skin.

Enveloping me

Crawling through my blood

Reviving me again.
© 2015 Christina Jackson