Tug of the Heart, Blood on the Wrist

After banging of the drums,
After beating of the heart,
After the ‘ahs’ and ‘ums’,
It didn’t feel right.

After rolling of the eyes,
And grips of the seat,
I could just say goodbye
And tell you to count your sheep.

As sharp as a dagger in my pocket,
Feeling it gripping at my sides,
Waiting to be let out,
And used like you.

One slash is easy and painless,
Number two comes and drips down
To the ground, a butterfly kiss.
Five more drops, down down down.

Black blurry dots clouded,
Banging heart and head,
I’m so loud
I wish I was dead.