Tears of Blood

drip...drop....drip....drop

My soul is so scarred that it feels like it’s been shot multiple times without warning.

 

 As I sit here and weep, little tears of blood stream down my face, burning and singeing me as they go deeper into my skin, like how milo crumbles and sinks when boiling water is poured over it.

 

As the blood leaks out of my arms from the slash I’ve made, I mourn a little harder and once again my tears are practically like tsunamis drizzling out of my eyes. Except they aren’t clear, they’re stained red.

 

Each time I make an incision, it makes me cry more. Which just make me want to scratch my skin away piece by piece, slowly and painfully, until I can see the bones that structure me together. Almost like a zip lock bag over the remains of me.

Author's Note

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Reviews

[Reaper]

so powerful. and coupled with that picture, it really shows off the raw emotion in this.