On Purpose Poem by Kylee Bartz

On Purpose



I see the blood dripping down my arm.
Red liquid in a running line

I smell the blood dripping down my arm.
Irony and salty

I hear the blood dripping down my arm.
Making splashes as drops hit the floor

I taste the blood dripping down my arm.
Mineraly and smooth

I feel the blood dripping down my arm.
A tickle covering immense pain

Because I cut myself
On purpose

Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Topic(s) of this poem: irony
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Gan Chennai 24 May 2010

To inflict an injury even by mind itself is wrong. Buddha meant it. He lived it. All the best.

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Iron Panda 23™ 12 May 2010

sooo good x3

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Kylee Bartz

Kylee Bartz

Attica, New York
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