guilt
In this world of bitter endings
I wish to only see the blood on my wrist
Slit by my own hands
As it snakes down to drip

A shape it makes on the floor
A bloody torn heart
Still pulsing with old love
It convulses, choking on it's own blood

I watch disinterested, hallucinations
are child's play to me now
In this world of bitter endings
I'm just another one

Infused with systematic rage
The blood keeps dripping
The very sound irritates me
I tear at the wound, ripping it
further and further
Feeling the slick red liquid
seeping into my fingertips
I can't stop the exhilaration

The blade nearby only tempts me more
I lick my lips, they're dry
And the blade skims my skin once more
Leaving another red trail

For Dorothy to find her way home?
In this world of bitter endings
Dorothy never returns to Kansas
She lies in a puddle of blood, clutching
her injured side, gazing sadly at her shoes.

Glee is in my veins, I glance at the blood
I slip and trip at the blood
I hit my head, there's more blood
There's no more pain, no sadness

There's a strange fascination
That overtakes one so near to the end
A bitter end, just another one
In this world of bitter endings
I glance weakly at my wrists,
unable to differentiate blood in my eyes
and blood on the floor
everywhere, blood here, there.

My last thought?
If only.

chiiyo's comments :
*eyes sparkle* *Lili is a closet morbid person* Ooh... so much blood... This was a depressed poem. Duh. Unlike most of my other poems, this one was pretty graphic. I was angry, I believe, when I wrote this, angry and disillusioned. Some of the extended imagery still make me ponder at the state of my mind when I wrote this. For example, the one about the bloody heart on the floor, convulsing. Very visual. The one about Dorothy too, a sudden inspiration, I like how it ends sadly. I must admit though, it was a pretty abrupt way to end it all...

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