TW: MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM, BLOOD, DEATH

This is only a vent poem. I have not done any of the things in the trigger warning mentioned.

—

Gazing at a wall
With blank and stony orbs
Feeling the prickling sensation
Of a laceration

A bright light glistens
On something thin,
Evenly whetted,
Deadly and fatal

Covered with crimson liquid
Trickling from my lesion
Created by the article I held
I felt only emptiness

The pain numbed
My tears all dry
My blood tainting the floor
Its white tone now coated in deep red

Lycoris Radiata bloomed
From the blood that scattered
Across and above the chamber
Hindered not by gravity

For a moment, my eyelids closed
My body weakened by the loss
Skin as pale as snow
My core aching with declining beats

Opening them yet again
“There they are," I thought
A figure without a face appeared
Clothed only in tattered black fabric

The lilies wilted on its path
As it sauntered towards me
I stay motionless
Unexpressive and indifferent

A boney hand reached out
“Come, my lady.” it quietly whispered.
With no hesitation, I weakly extended mine
As I graze its roughness, everything stopped

I awakened from the nightmare
However, I shed no tears
You could say I did the opposite
An uncanny smile plastered on my scarred face

—

Created on November 30, 2021