Blood On My Wrist Poem by mathew saighman

I can’t find it in myself to write with a page and pen,
So I’ll scrawl this letter on my wrists,
And maybe you will listen then,

This first cut is for the time you said you loved me,
The time that you lied,
Because when I found out that this wasn’t true,
A part of me inside died,

This second cut is for the time you left me,
When you said we couldn’t work,
And then as you left me crying,
I saw your lips curved in a smirk,

This third and final cut,
Is for all my wasted time,
Because you never gave your heart to me,
You just walked all over mine,

Now the room is spinning,
I can hear my shallow breath,
I realized the thing I hate most right now,
Is the fact that I will love you till death. 3