Categories
POEMS

Vermillion

Every time my heart is broken,
Love spills out
and pure blood's on the floor —
bubbling like soup,
it fizzles out,
the spark dies,
and the patch stains,
soaking into the cracks of the bedroom carpet.
What must must I do?
I can't carry it in my hands.
It'll only get taken away.

By Kuaks

i wrote this

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