Pangs of a signature metallic smell and taste.
Brightens white sheet and puts a smile to my face.
Sustains life and feeds addiction.
Alleviates panic and strengthens conviction.
Flows freely from gaping wound to parted lips.
Drains color and resolve as it drips.
Aligns my mind and sways my hips,
as the fairy tale romance rips… shifts and
I realize it’s okay to taste exotic cuisine.
I am not Emo.
I am not into self mutilation without purpose.
This is not for attention,…
and if you can’t handle this or feel inclined to look away know that I am okay with that as well. (-: