Faucet

I'm breathing.
My heart beats.
Weakly albeit.
But it's beating.
And my blood is moving.
But it doesn't like to stay in my body.
No.
It prefers the fresh air.
And I see no reason to protest.
So I'll pick you up my friend.
And I'll bring you over to my place.
Then we'll reminisce while making new memories.
Your cold, cold skin will skim along my warm, scarred arms.
And we'll laugh...only to cry five seconds later...
Then my blood will flow...
And like a waterfall it'll just flow down my arm where it'll drip from my fingertips like a leaky faucet...
My body is like an old, lonely landlord...
See I'm the only tenant...
So the blood gets shut off because like the landlord it doesn't want me to leave yet...
Which is fine by me.
There's always the next day...
And the next...
And the next...
I have plenty of time to get my bags packed to leave.
I even bought a suitcase today...