Blood

Blood red words

My stinging cheek

A silver knife hides behind you eyes

 

This is not what I want

A small seedling should grow into a tree

Not a monstrous wolf

 

Claws scraping the frozen ground

Prepared to pounce yet again

To cut me below the skin

 

A babbling brook falls from my eyes

As emotions rise in a tidal wave

Ready to drown us

 

Light, the color of bone

Fills the room

Consuming the image of you

 

That’s when I know

I’m safe

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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