I'm fascinated
By the blood
Pulsing in your eye.
I wouldn't mind
Knowing if you
See red
All the time.
It's very beautiful
As sick as it sounds.
A friend told I
That you had a split lip
Not just a black eye.
And I have to say
It's some kind of art.
Too bad the bruises are gone
I was actually quite fond
Of them.
But now it's just the scrapes
On your fingers.
My friend likes to draw you
And I like to write blue.
But the red in your eye
Is something new
For my muse.
I was getting bored
Of writing about people
Who typically die.
This won't be common
Me writing about your eye
More of a one time.
It's something I could draw.
But I cannot draw.
So next time
You have a physical flaw.
Come find me
And I'll write about the
Red in your eye.