Thorns

I trip into a thick brush
Thorns bite into my pale flesh
Crimson liquid oozes from my wounds
I close my eyes
As the fire pours inside my viens
Don't scream out
Don't be weak
I cannot stand
My knees shake with sheer terror
But I must mask my pain
Grit my teeth
Slap a smile across my face
These thorns have torn into my precious flesh
Dying to get a taste of blood
When I try to show you what has happened
You turn away
You say 'It's ok.'
You leave me laying in the bed of thorns
Pools of my blood form around me
Soon my veins will become empty
But I cannot be weak
And since yo uwont help me
I must help myself
But every time I move
Every time I turn
The thorns tighten their grip on me
With sudden realization
I give up
I cannot get out of here
I let the thorn bush close its jaws around me
And swallow me whole
Close my eyes
And there is nothing more





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Coryssa said...
Aug. 29, 2010 at 8:44 pm
I really liked your poem. It was really detailed. I hope you write more poems just as good as this one.
 
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