Veins

VEINS

 

Little
pulsating, ticking movements in the blue-purple river,

Partially
obscured by skin,

So
easily I could slice through them,

Sawing
down on the sinew,

Until
the blood spills out,

Turning
scarlet as the oxygen hits it,

Such
a beautiful colour,

Crimson,
scarlet, vermillion,

Such
beautiful names,

Suicide,
masochism, sadism,

Such
beautiful concepts.

The End

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