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Blood is Never Gone


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Love is the blood that courses,
trembling
through our veins

Softly rustling past our heart,
caressing,
gentle and swift

Pooling on the pink of
our tongue,
metallic and sweet

It quenches thirst in such
a beautifully
grotesque manner

Stark red, dark as pain
across
snowy, startled flesh

Dripping, spurting, how it
longs
for wounds

It stains our skin, so wet, so cold,
unremovable
no matter how gone

Wound after wound, the flashing blade
we hold
why do we do this?

Why do we let the blood run
out
forever, lost?

Why let it rain so hopelessly
hard
with scarlet petals?

And the blood does run
does run
scorching, beautiful red

Why can't we stop the flow
stop
the stream of remorse

Because blood is never gone
until
it's gone.




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This article has 3 comments. Post your own!

Andrew:)139864133432 said...
May 3, 2010 at 8:16 am:

i really enjoyed you poem and i hope you will continue to broaden you horizon and write more. If you have time i would appericiate it if you can read one of mine. cant wait for more.

 

 
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izz123 said...
Nov. 22, 2009 at 9:24 am:
The great word choice in this poem leads to a powerful metaphor. Great job :) I can't wait to read more of your poems.
Please check out some of my work when you get the chance.
 
Isabella G. replied...
Nov. 22, 2009 at 9:25 am :
Thanks! I'll definitely check your work.
 
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