Blossoming Death

the knife rolls over the pink skin
still dark from the last cut
soft slit, slight sting
slowly red begins to form
beads of blood blossom
they slowly trickle across the flesh
blink, and tears drop to the open wound
tears mingle with the blood
water them down, slide down the arm
no salt penetrates, there is no salt
they have been cried a long time ago
tears from you, pain to my heart
no longer a beat there shall be
blood pools around my form
like a flower upon a fresh grave