Bloody screams feel my ears.
The pain I’ve been longing for to tear it from my body.
To feel the pressure of that tiny little hook pulling at my skin like a fish caught on it.
I love the feel, the pain of what makes me feel real.
I want to feel real, to feel alive.
That’s why pain is a necessity.
Looking down the blood is a puddle of beauty.
A life long lived and needs long gone.
To feel real and I’m wanted.
Loved by those who say they do and believe it.
The bloody mess at my feet moves and seems to smile back at me.
TO love and be loved is what I know I have.
Here in my bloody loneliness