Confused listlessness consumes her being
She thinks she isn't even worth the seeing.
Forlorn and picked over is what's she's feeling
God has forsaken her and her head is reeling.
The world is closed; somewhat like a shroud,
Like a thick and dark and heavy cloud.
She peers into what seemed like the night
Only to realize she was staring at her plight.
Soft little patters began to fall,
Onto the bed, onto the ground. . . all down the hall.
First they looked black, scattered all on the bed
Until it was clear they were actually quite red.
Bloody spatters, clearly defined
As she softly left her body behind.
She lay in a pile there on the floor,
Never to feel alone anymore.
She thinks she isn't even worth the seeing.
Forlorn and picked over is what's she's feeling
God has forsaken her and her head is reeling.
The world is closed; somewhat like a shroud,
Like a thick and dark and heavy cloud.
She peers into what seemed like the night
Only to realize she was staring at her plight.
Soft little patters began to fall,
Onto the bed, onto the ground. . . all down the hall.
First they looked black, scattered all on the bed
Until it was clear they were actually quite red.
Bloody spatters, clearly defined
As she softly left her body behind.
She lay in a pile there on the floor,
Never to feel alone anymore.
.. i wrote that a long time ago .. it's published in a book somewhere. I never bought it tho lol.
