I watched him, now
The pin prickly drops of a garish red
Seeps
From the uncareful lines he’d drawn on himself.
Slowly, that you’d have to watch
To notice it was even gathering on his skin.
He looks at me
For some sort of a reaction,
Though all I can think about is
The mess that should follow.
I tell him to stop, and
That is the end of it.