PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Blood


I can hear the clock ticking.

My ears are bleeding.

I hear your voice in my head.

I am choking on my spit and you're snickering.

I wish I could hate you.

You revel in the blood pouring from my veins.

There's a drop in temperature, and I know you're here.

My blood is cold.

I drop dead, and you're laughing.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (1)

Grant-Grey Porter Hawk Guda
<p>Powerful expression. Always let poetry fill your life. Keep expressing your heart. &nbsp;</p>

Log in to leave a comment.