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Elise Valentie
He worries
He shouts
He yells
I give a sly smile where he can’t see
I lock it in the palm of my hand
Its my secret
For him i prepair a cupfull of teardrops with razor sharp edges
He lovenly drinks down my salty tears
Consuming every last bitter-sweet drop
They pierce through his bare fleash on their way down
Blood begins to trickle through the freash open wounds
His eyes bleed
His hands bleed
His knees bleed
Soon his hair is blood soaked
Droplets of blood drip from his finger tips
And the point on his nose
Streams of blood run down the center of his back and the curves in his hips
Down
Down
Down
Untill they reach the crymson pool on the floor
I gently press my index finger up to his now bloody lips
Then very slowly and calmly say
“Shhhhhhh”
