The Aftermath

Poetry, short stories, paintings, photography, songs – art of all genres.

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Posts: 1
Joined: Mon Dec 22, 2014 12:04 am

The Aftermath

Postby denna » Mon Dec 22, 2014 12:10 am

I clean my knife, I clean the wound
I clean my knife, I clean the wound
I clean the wound, I clean the wound, I clean the wound
Why don't things ever truly get clean?
People eat with this knife.
Somebody lives in this skin.
After the energy has trickled out, escaped,
All I want is my bed.
But my blood would stain the sheets.
Isn't that what I want though?
A stain to prove that I was here
Even after she returns?
I feel her coming back already.
I should welcome her presence,
But nobody likes to feel replaced.

Posts: 37
Joined: Wed Jan 07, 2015 9:55 pm

Postby SkaterDrew » Wed Jan 07, 2015 11:33 pm

somehow, i kinda feel some sad and hate emotions circling around on this piece :( like hatred going to explode anytime.

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