I like my poems BLOODY

I wear my heart BLOODY
on both sleeves
for all the world to see
and smother it
and paint my body with it
and lay with it naked
and shower with it
and wash the slate CLEAN
but I don't let anyone touch this bloody heart
for than it will die.

I consume my thoughts on a daily basis 
and regurgitate them worse

I grieve for a lover I yet to have met,
or maybe?
Maybe I grieve, for I have fallen MADLY in love, and that I know she could never love me and I know I am going to lose her, so I've begun the grieving process.

Praying so hard for love,
gripping the cross
Cutting hands of dripping BLOOD brooding on a wooden cross
for the love of my soul mate
; WOOD & BLOOD
an elemental device.

Slaughtered Mentally,
i OBSESS over my own DEATH
but there is no body,
no casket,
no funeral,
no grave.
PAIN.
ENDS.

And Emotions Left Menacing, in the night.

Night quivers, night owls, howl, their lonely hooting sounds, crying out because they are ALONE :(

Bad-Night!

Sour-Dreams!

~ BLURr