As crimson drops hit the spoiled cotton I breath a sigh of relief
lying back in a feeling of ecstasy and strange peace in the chaos of my thoughts.
I drag the blade again over the fair skin, innocence now marked with sorrow.
I taste the bite of silver and the familiar pain ceases, only for a little while.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good start with a nice poem, Bethanny. You may like to read my poem, Love And Iust. Thank you.