deepundergroundpoetry.com

The Blood Drips Black

Her Blood drips black,
as it is vile and repugnant.
The puddles whirl around in circles,
because they liked to be redundant.
The knife she used was old and rusty;
it had her most favorite feel.
She tossed it aside, it had no more use to her,
because the pain was too real.
She no longer liked what she had done,
and wished the pain away.
But she withered away in hurt,
and she died that very same day.



*Inspired by a book we were reading in AP LIT, 'Wuthering Heights'
Written by ZexionKingdomHeart
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 1 reading list entries 0
comments 2 reads 735
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 12:14pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 12:13pm by Ahavati
SPEAKEASY
Today 12:11pm by RyanBlackborough
POETRY
Today 12:07pm by Detritus
SPEAKEASY
Today 12:06pm by Detritus
SPEAKEASY
Today 12:04pm by Ahavati