I’m still healing
after what
you did.
I wake up from
homicidal dreams
every morning,
dripping
all over
the bedsheets
but don’t worry, love.
The blood is not yours.
It’s mine.

Categories: Art, Poetry, UncategorizedTags: c.eve, ceve, dark art, dark poetry, poem, poems, poetry, shadow of eve, shadowofeve, shadowofeve.com