May 17, 2017

I am bleeding.

My blood flows freely,

From my opened heart.


Yet this is not blood as you know it.

It is black and sticky. 

Ink flows freely, 

From my opened heart. 


It sticks to the soles

Of those that step over my corpse, 

Following them home.


Those that see my body stop. 

They stop only to move it,

Staining their hands black.


No one notices the darkness in their life,

Not until it creeps into their heart.


No one notices until they bleed.

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