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Her blood is on my hands I don't remember what happened last night All I see is a foggy glow All I hear is a shriek.
Her blood is on my hands I feel a weight on my chest My eyes are flooding I can't stop crying
A stone cold wall is against my back I can see my writings on the walls I see blood on my hands Even if it's not there at all.
I feel so confused and crazed And I'm running into walls So the blood that's on my hands Isn't yours.
I can't hear you Everything's fuzzy I see in black I see in blue On my hands a scarlet hue.
I finally wake from my bed Sweating through my clothes I can't see you I can't see you lying there But there's still blood on my hands Then I see the bruises on my hands
Then I realize With tears in my eyes And a pain in my head That it's all mine.
⚠️ heads-up!
Hilo, this poem's a bit darker than my usual ones -it's a fictional/poetic expression of trauma. So, if it feels too much, pls stop reading and do something silly, like pretend you're a chicken 🐔 💛