My Truths

showing the bloody disaster

of my truths,

you can see i'm

falling apart.

one scarlet bead after

another,

a pool of crimson

overflows.

striking silence

follows,

touching softly with

its fingers.

whispering eyes survey

the damage.

some things cannot be

undone.

Reviews

[ron]

Well writen. It can be the eath of love or an injury to the body. Iether way I have had both and can relate to this poem in a very personle way. I like it thank you for sharing.