They’re back again.
The visions in my head,
The ones of blood.
Of my blood.
Puddles.
On the floor of my room.
Porcelain eyes are watching.
Staring at the mess I've made.
Scarlet threads on my wrists and neck are unraveling,
The color draining from my body.
Painful from your eyes,
Peaceful from mine.
Stress and worry are gone.
Never to be seen from my eyes again,
For my eyes can no longer see.