Untitled

By Drifter

A low, deep Voice.


Leg's twitching.


fog glazed contacts rolling in.


Red.


the Voice-
Growns


Low, Deep, Red.


the haze


blinding dull grey.
and Red.


pain
recognized


Someone hurts


Legs twitching.
Splashing
Red


Tile.
Yours.

Your tiles
Red.

Your pain.
Red.
Your blood.
Red.
Your wounds.
Blead.
Your eyes hazy with the shadow of death.














Waking up.
Your failed suicide.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
© 2005 Drifter
Published on Thursday, November 17, 2005.     Filed under: "Poetry"
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Comments on "Untitled"

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  • A former member wrote: like waking up to a very badly throbbing head.

  • TaintedButterfly On Thursday, November 17, 2005, TaintedButterfly (653)By person wrote:

    Very real.. and to think, red is my favorite color! Wow... I loved the ending. Great job.

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