The Bucket Has TippedA Poem by Kaitday 2, and I dont know how to stop.Torrid, serrated nails hold her heart ajar, to bleed its’ precious youth onto the cold ceramic floor.
The lustrous, gossamer scent, trickles past with titanium glints; drooling as a craving builds with every ruby that appears.
Borrowing tears from the Blades compulsive edge, drinking life as it runs down my shaking, frigid, demonic, crippled hands.
Her will shattered and split The rage and tension Stretched beneath her skin.
She broke free © 2012 KaitReviews
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1 Review Added on October 3, 2012 Last Updated on October 10, 2012 Tags: cutting, depression, guilt, grief, loathing AuthorKaitNew York, NYAboutManhattanite attending FIT with hopes of a bright, lucrative future as a fashion editor. (2013) Life is about accepting the events that shape your character, and ascending over the obstacles. I'd .. more..Writing
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