Treasure Island

Elaine Eatsbabies

(March 6,1995)

Water.


Water drips off my body
Red water
Black water
Water that looks like glass as it rolls down my face

Stop the pain
Stop the water
Stop the liquid pouring from my body

Feel the pain
Breathe it in
Taste the hurt flowing
Flowing
Ever so smoothly
Ever so beautifully

Red water
Black water
Water that looks like glass and cuts like a knife

Red water
Looking so pretty
Glistening in the light

Black water
Staining my soul
Streaking my face
Making my pain visible

Water that looks like glass
Falls on my body
Seeps through my pores
I feel nothing inside

So breathe it in
Feel the pain
Let it hurt
And let it heal
Cuz you'll be dead soon enough.

April 5 2010
Copyright by Elaine Cole 2010

Submitted: Monday, September 06, 2010

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Water. by Elaine Eatsbabies )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. In deep, hasmukh amathalal
  2. Truth is supreme, gajanan mishra
  3. Photograph from September 11, Wislawa Szymborska
  4. A stain..., GRANT FRASER
  5. buzz be what?, Mandolyn ...
  6. The Cat, Novica Tadić
  7. Singing in the Shower, Joan Goodwin
  8. Pappou Elia's Poem - A More Literal Tran.., Elia Michael
  9. Night Sonnet, Novica Tadić
  10. Asperger's is not a curse - it is just a.., Richard Allen Beevor

Poem of the Day

poet William Wordsworth

I

I AM not One who much or oft delight
To season my fireside with personal talk.--
Of friends, who live within an easy walk,
Or neighbours, daily, weekly, in my sight:
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]