Drain my skin with hands that plunge into my flesh.
Ruby drops streaming down my arms, my legs, my chin.
Sliding and mixing with salty sweat and tears.
My pores seem to leak the substance on the carpet floor.
Soak the hairs in mars colored murder.
The pain fills me. I'm blind to the world, only can I see your hateful expression framed in my eyelids.
Only can I feel your tormented fingertips framing my throat, braced around my neck.
a frightening storm, such a storm, such scorn should belong to my fingertips.
Should blood be spilt, I should have spilt.
My breath leaves me. Your palms gripping my throat, the pain of your vision in my eyes.
Burned and pained, my spirit is smeared across the canvas of my ruby death.
I feel as a vase fallen from the edge of the highest cabinet.
Inside, I seep into the ground.
My liquid no longer preserves the bright red roses I once held. You've crushed me, poured me from the shelves,
I wither in wet silence-
bound too tight to scream- bled too long to fight.
Still, when the ground has dried and the day has gone... I will mend...
my shattered self.