Here I sit upon this cream white carpet
Salt streams down my face like a river, gently trickling over my freckled cheeks
Copper drips from my arm onto my hands, falling into the cracks of my palms
My eyes are burning but my skin is cold
My mind is racing but my heart is still
My posture weakens but I don’t let my head fall
Instead my gaze flickers to the ground
The floor a jarring hue
That lovely white carpet now streaked with crimson
What a mess I’ve made...