Untitled

Watching the red blossom. Trickle down skin. Slow.

Blood is thicker than water you see.

Is it warm? Feels cold to me.

Hide? Or run away? Always the question. But where?

Naked. Exposed. Broken. Just the blanket of red to keep you warm.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s