Arielle Friese - Crimson

The color of crimson
covers my wrist
as I sit and try to stop it

Why wont it stop did
I slice to deep?
did I hit a vein?

I must have because
my floor is coverd in blood
the room is spinning out
and I am going cold.

The last thing i hear before i went limp
was my moms voice saying why did
she do this to her self

and she doesnt know i di it because of her

Arielle Friese

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/crimson-18/