Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2013
One, two, three, four, come and get me!
You betcha, I will.

She stared at her greenish, blue veins jolting through her pale porcelain wrists-
like ancient twisted tree roots;
growing,
growing from her fingertips down to her toes.
Reaching towards the heavens
and stretching down towards hell.

Or perhaps her veins were a lighting bolt electrifying her skin;
striking her wrists,
pulsing through her upper arms.

Five, six, seven, eight

She was one with the blood.
Flowing through her bloodstreams,
the universe inside of her.

nine, ten, eleven, twelve...

Shards of glass, like millions of angels coming to save her.
She picked one up.
Held it to her skin.
She crawled into the bathtub.
Watched the water turn red.

Gotcha!
Come inside girls, it's time for lunch!*

She finally understood
who she was again.
Written by
Kylie R  New York
(New York)   
791
   --- and Tyler Lynn Pulliam
Please log in to view and add comments on poems