Blood is dripping and flowing from these wounds that I can't remember where they came from as the drops of this crimson gold hit the floor  why isn't stained why can't it  feel like the dampness of a puddle of water soaking through my skin have I gone numb have I lost too much blood to know  I am falling why is there no stopping this I feel the crash of porcelain and the rushing of water as I take a breath to know I am there all I feel is despair and it's leaving through my wrists which lie on the pristine white tub