Bleeding Poem by Kate Battye
Bleeding
Goose-pimples bristle up my
hunched spine,
as the thin line of red
appears,
loosely spreading across the
cut,
forming a stationary red dot.
The cut fits in perfectly,
it gets lost in the crowd,
slowly blending in,
on a once perfect surface.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Topic(s) of this poem: red
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8/24/2026 12:26:19 AM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
