331st Post

Flames of Hate, Rage and Guilt.

Set alight by a foolish mistake.

Slowly consuming my body.
Starting with my own mind.

The bits and pieces start to char and turn into flaky ash.
Blown away by the winds of silence.

A cry attempts to come forth.
But no tears flow.

But in its place.

Rivers of blood.
Made in places where sliver meets flesh.

Pain to punish me of the mistake.
To form scarred reminders.
To relive me of the anguish.

How i take curious pride.

For every drop of blood.
That spills from this living corpse.

Blood that gives life to mortals.
Are now nothing but painful memories in their liquid form.

Just choosing.
To stay or to leave.