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In the dead of night,
How comforting to feel a warm heat
Dripping down my icy skin.
I wonder why,
As dark red runs in rivulets
Down my arms and wrists,
This is the moment
I feel most alive.
If I jump let me sink. It’d be one hell of a photograph, I think.
Or I’ll put a gun to my head and paint you a pretty picture in red.
Which would you prefer? I’ll be the artist you always were.