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Sweaterweather
Poems
Jun 2014
Blood and cigarettes
Big, Bulging drops of blood
Such pretty scarlet red
And big, bulging drops of bloods
Rolling off the bed
These violent delights have violent ends
No truer words ever spoken
She lived a violent life
And it's a violent vow that's broken
The delight she found was just in this
Blood that of which would fall
It fascinated her so
But why, she could not recall
It's hard to face the truth in the end
But when the smoke has cleared
And the battle's all but won
Your soul will feel it is sheared
"Just let go" It whispers
You long to heed it
But there'll be people left
And they would never concede it
So she lets them down
They'll forgive her someday
Today is her last worry
There's no use in trying to stay
All this time, the answer was there
Waiting, whispering, bringing itself to view
Now its moment's come
She'll commit the ultimate taboo
A tiny blade
For her tiny heart
Down pours the red
Staining her hand like a work of art
Now big, bulging drops of blood
Have become her downfall
Those big, bulging drops of blood
And the scent of menthol
Written by
Sweaterweather
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