Across These Walls
A turn of my cheek.
A smile so weak.
This feeling in my stomach so sick.
Your blood runs so cold, so thick.
Tears fall.
I watch you crawl.
Blood across these walls.
And now I stall.
Here I stand.
Blade in hand.
Now this is my work.
I hope this hurts.
Copyright © Taylor Jenkins | Year Posted 2010
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