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"
Comments on "Untitled"
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A former member wrote:
like waking up to a very badly throbbing head.
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On Thursday, November 17, 2005, TaintedButterfly
(653) wrote:
Very real.. and to think, red is my favorite color! Wow... I loved the ending. Great job.