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Blood is Never Gone
Love is the blood that courses,
trembling
through our veins
Softly rustling past our heart,
caressing,
gentle and swift
Pooling on the pink of
our tongue,
metallic and sweet
It quenches thirst in such
a beautifully
grotesque manner
Stark red, dark as pain
across
snowy, startled flesh
Dripping, spurting, how it
longs
for wounds
It stains our skin, so wet, so cold,
unremovable
no matter how gone
Wound after wound, the flashing blade
we hold
why do we do this?
Why do we let the blood run
out
forever, lost?
Why let it rain so hopelessly
hard
with scarlet petals?
And the blood does run
does run
scorching, beautiful red
Why can't we stop the flow
stop
the stream of remorse
Because blood is never gone
until
it's gone.
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Favorite Quote:
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i really enjoyed you poem and i hope you will continue to broaden you horizon and write more. If you have time i would appericiate it if you can read one of mine. cant wait for more.