Weeping is the WoundA Poem by SophieJust as the red flows from us, our life sustaining blood, tears are love's version of blood.
Weeping is the wound, when the tear ducts swell, that's love's version of blood beginning to well.
When you bleed, your body cries, and when you sob, love begins to die.
Love is something inside you. Love is something alive, too. Love bleeds when it's broken, Love's voice cracks when words are spoken. Love is a person, a person who is not you, love is a person, who knows what's true. © 2012 SophieAuthor's Note
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14 Reviews Added on June 5, 2012 Last Updated on June 5, 2012 |

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