Published: 23 Feb 2018 › Updated: 23 Feb 2018
Bloody Knife
Knives are sharp,
cuts sting.
Blood is warm,
running down your arms.
Dripping into puddles,
getting cold.
Growing weak,
darkness in caves.
Falling to the floor,
painting you red.
Cold incaving you,
motionless,
life is no more.
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