Aug 2013
I don’t know how I managed to stay so strong.
that desire for red, for torn flesh, that used to possess me in my early teens never won.
But oh god, it’s times like this that all my old thirsts come flooding back.
Right now all I want to see through my blurred vision is blood, and lots of it.
How I haven’t succumbed and drowned in crimson remains a mystery even to me.
that desire for red, for torn flesh, that used to possess me in my early teens never won.
But oh god, it’s times like this that all my old thirsts come flooding back.
Right now all I want to see through my blurred vision is blood, and lots of it.
How I haven’t succumbed and drowned in crimson remains a mystery even to me.
Not really a poem, but I jotted this down on my personal blog just after I burst into tears over something and it kinda sounded better - to me at least - than anything I'd intended to be poetry.
