It Was A Bloody Experience

Mon, 02/05/2018 - 21:14 -- desi45

My legs crossed themselves together as the sharp pieces of grass scratched against my limbs.

The cooling air passing against me sent a deep chill throughout my relaxed presence.

I stared quietly at each individual blade of grass as my unclear thoughts stirred wildly.

Images ran loudly in my mind as I leaned back in my own seated area.

As I closed my tired eyes my mind seemed to escape me slowly.

 

Against my own sleep filled protest, my eyes opened again as a younger girl with long dark hair tied into flowing braids suddenly stood in front of me, her dress covered in splotches of what seemed to be blood.

Shock struck my body in ripples as I studied her child-like face.

It was pale with soft yet forceful edges and a few gentle freckles were grazed

under each dark blue colored eye.

 

I scanned the rest of my surroundings as the cracking grey squares

of the sidewalk disappeared from my view.

A sing song rhythm of ruby red droplets hit against the ground lightly as I watched the girl intently.

 

In that moment, she decided to speak to me:

“As you may see I cannot feel the magnificent aura of pain like most can,

but I can imagine the ripping of skin and the gushing of bright red blood pooling

out as the blade runs excitedly across one’s body” She whispered almost softly.

Her words remained true as the thick liquid flowed out of her, once again

staining the white lace gown, she wore.

 

A dark shadow grew around her small frame as she made no attempt to speak.

My body started to shake with fear as the large shadow gleamed against the girl.

“He was not my friend nor was he my enemy.

I can remember when the shadow first appeared in my mind.

He introduced me to the wonders of what pain could be like.”

I was brought back to where I was before, sitting calmly in the grass.

 

My head loomed downward as pain suddenly struck my hand.

It laid unmoving under the shining green pieces of grass, as

blood rushed out in miniature droplets.

Each drop ran down my plump looking pointer finger.

Purposely avoiding the pain the grass had caused me, my mind kept wanting

to go back to the little girl and figure out who she had been. 

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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