I let you run your fingers across my wounds,
You asked me the story behind each one,
I whispered them nervously fearing judgement because some of them healed while some still gaped;

And what did you do? You managed to rip open every single one with my consent, plunged in deep to see if I still ran red. Frantically, you withdrew your hand blue and frostbitten; the curiousity hurt didn't it?

I held your hand tender, ran it across my cheek and said " This is what I am" and you said " I love you"
I grinned, taken back, warm by blood seeping around my chest and slowly died.