Crimson

My heart is no longer crimson, my heart no longer beats in my veins blood no longer flows through my wounds the crimson blood leaks crimson is the night, crimson is the rain my life and my soul, crimson in my brain I am no longer conscious, what I see is not fake crimson puddles are what I hallucinate crimson on the walls, crimson tears fall I cry, and try not to concentrate on the crimson that I crave Crimson was the last thing that I saw, before I took that gun and shot, to the floor I fall. The bullet lodged in my skull, is the feeling of my life never being full. the crimson puddle that I made, is where my body was found, decayed. The crimson grew dark, the crimson is completely drained from my heart [skitz] 2007