Blue and indigo lines.
Dark as ink.
Drowning in blood with pain.
With the pounding and drum of each heart beat, more pain is released into the system.
Flowing calmly but with intensity and pure passion.
The streams are in a tangled path. Leaving behind a strangled mess.
The throbbing continues with every breath.
Echoing against the very soul of your being.
The blues and purples reach the surface as each new tender bruise is revealed.

Transcending tunes in
Dissonant chords--
Demons hiding in the growing mist.
There's nothing left to say,
Only too many things done wrong.

Can it be shut out?
I can't see past my hand,
Let alone past the mistakes.
You left me when I fell down.
I don't blame you,
If I had the choice, I would have left myself.

I'm giving up now,
Handing my white flag to the demons--
I surrender.
I was too late when I started.

Deep inside me come,
Up from somewhere deep and great:
Drums, drums in the deep,
Constant drumming in my head,
I cannot ignore.