Another sucky poem...even worse than my last...

Laceration
By: Savannah




The blade is cold,
Against my warm, soft flesh.
I push the knife harder,
Tearing shallowly into the skin.
I allow my blood to drip,
Bit by bit...
Slow and soft at first.
Then deeper the cuts tear,
Leaving to be abysmal scars.
The cruor pours now,
Thick and red.
I make a sea of crimson,
I drench the ground in blood.
I close my eyes,
Tilt back my head.
Dark shadows flicker,
Covering my very existence.
In this time,
Lost deep inside my pain.
I feel free,
Now I feel true.
In these moments,
I can breathe again.
Only now as I cause,
The wound that plagues my body.
I have realized something,
Truly...my life is but a mere laceration.


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cruor

\Cru"or\ (kr?"?r), n. [L., blood. See Crude.] The coloring matter of the blood; the clotted portion of coagulated blood, containing the coloring matter; gore.

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lac·er·a·tion ( P ) Pronunciation Key (ls-rshn)
n.
A jagged wound or cut.


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a·bys·mal ( P ) Pronunciation Key (-bzml)
adj.
Resembling an abyss in depth; unfathomable.
Very profound; limitless: abysmal misery.
Very bad: an abysmal performance.

took my advide, i see.

it ain't bad. i'd like it better if had rhythm and if it rhymed, but it ain't bad. as long as you like it.

ack! stupid thing. sorry to double post.