All the pain
All the fuss.
It’s driven me to
this horrible lust
For blood.
To just sit
and watch it flood.
To let it fill
to the top of the glass.
And, in
just a flash,
Witness the overflow.
To see the
crimson liquid go,
And spread itself out.
Dear child,
do not pout
or shout,
For all this pain
is temporary.
And the blood is pure
and sanitary.
Just marvel at its beauty,
how well it
carries out its duty.
To shine so pure,
that no mortal
could ever endure,
How it can overwhelm,
flowing from limb
to limb.
But just one opening
in the skin,
can guide it out instead
of keeping it in.
Oh! Just how it
leaks down.
My lips curl into a smile.
This sight could never
make me frown.
What’s that?
I’m losing color?
I’m becoming pale?
It seems as though
my body has become
quite frail.
Oh, how silly,
I forget completely,
that I need
this sight of beauty
inside of me.
But why, oh why
must I keep it
all inside?
Why must I fall,
if it all escapes
my outer wall?
If it must always
stay concealed,
Then I guess true beauty
shall never be revealed.


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