Tainted InkA Poem by Miss Marie Riorden."Every night she stays awake and leaves reminders on her body of how much she hates herself." - Anonymous~*~ Splashes of color that mark the Skin I leave uncovered if Only for the moment you Cannot see the Scars that line my flesh.
Pink and fresh, they Itch and burn; Striving to be More than what they are, Deeper Than what you could ever Think to believe.
Bright, painful to the eye's Wishing, the brain's hoping that Maybe it is not true; that there's Nothing crimson about the mess That spills from my wrist.
Dripping down slowly, covering the Parchment, the quill; so I can Write another story about the Pain, in my heart, that Rips me apart.
Words have been etched time After time, different each time But, still the same in some Way that refuses to change Who I am.
That tainted ink I spill So well, so brightly, does it Write those stories I've Wanted to tell; Are they Good enough for you?
I fall short of expectations you Set and place in front of me like A meal I cannot stomach, Because it's poisoned with Your lovely hatred.
So I'll write one more story Across the parchment of my Flesh so pink, and watch as Crimson spills brightly onto My very last note. ~*~ © 2012 Miss Marie Riorden.Author's Note
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4 Reviews Added on March 20, 2012 Last Updated on March 20, 2012 AuthorMiss Marie Riorden.Remember, KYAboutI'm going to address this right now. I do take Read Requests, but that DOES NOT mean you need to RR me everything you write. And I do not read stories unless it's of my own free-will. So do not RR the.. more..Writing
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