Cranberry cuts covered
her porcelain skin.
The tears of regret mothered
all the pain she was in.
Cranberry cuts burning,
as the blade cuts deep.
Her spirit descending,
with a tremendous leap.
Cranberry cuts gushing
their crimson juice.
A relief that's exhausting
as she hangs her own noose.
Cranberry cuts numb
now the carcass can't feel.
Whats done is done
its so sad but so real.
Author notes
I guess I wrote this for Lizzie <3
Written November 9th, 2005
What did you think
Comments
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good job
Awesome job...very sad and discriptive....but to a point I can relate. Thank you for sharing.
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How tragic a write, but well written too. Good rhyme and rhythm, saying so much in so few short lines. Cranberry cuts - how symbolic, the red.
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