Today I wanted to do something new. Usually I’d give you all some poems from my poetry collection, The Diary of She, but it’s time to jump back into my zone. In order to do that I wanted to create something no one has seen before.
I hope you all enjoy!
Blood dripped off her finger tips onto the white sheets creating a stunning canvas from the torment that she called life.
Lacerations covered the parts of her she once kept hidden in fear that weakness would become her after all of her strength poured from her wounds.
The pool of blood lying in front of her represented the loneliness she felt no matter who she was around.
Maybe she could drown herself in it and maybe, just maybe the ones who claimed to care would come to rushing to her side, pulling her up from the pool of blood that was pulling her under like quick sand.
But nope, she kept sinking down into a place that seemed never-ending and the deeper she sank the more she was accepting her fate.
Wanting to rush the process, she stopped fighting for air and let herself go. What was the point in fighting when there was nothing left to fight for?