My red flags
Are bloodied rags
And blood-shot eyes
Over body bags.

My bad decisions
Are only comprehended
When stinging incisions
Are not met with stitches.

I never saw the knife,
You held tight.
I never saw the knight,
Fall. In spite

Im not blind.
So why?

Why my red flags go up so late?
What use do you have--my head on your plate?
And why do you try to manipulate,
My red flags to go up too late?