I wrote this like ages ago. Like in middle school.



Blood runs from my pores
Streams from my veins
And flows down my arms
Creating lurid candy canes

Torrid screams of youth
Of battered childhoods
Of sadness, anger, desperation

Of dead bodies and teary faces
Of blackthorns and torn laces
Of pricked fingers and lingering cries
From those who have been Polkerized*

And when the sadness overwhelms me
When I feel as if about to break
I see your face before me. . .

Promising sweet release
I feel you hold me in your arms
And softly stroke my tender cheeks
Brush tears from my crying eyes

But alas you have disappeared
No more than a shadow in my mind
Your promises are empty
Your arms hold nothing
You don't exist
You are nothing but a figment in my mind

I feel wistfulness pour down my soul
If only you were real

But I'm pulled back into the shadows again
My soul tearing from my body in these dreams. . .
These blood dreams. . .


*In Stephen King's Novel, The Stand, a couple of guys went on a murdering spree which Poke(one of the killers) called murder Polkerizing.