Bloody Hands

A small cut; it was once bright red

Now clotted and darkening; like a wilting rose

My crimson world is tearing into shreds

My hands are clean, I scrubbed and scrubbed; but the blood freely flows

My vision swims; my sight’s a blur

Mist rises and falls; I can only see red

The spirits are talking; causing a stir

Dark circles surround my eyes; I wake up screaming in bed

They don’t go away; they’ll never go away

Ghosts of my mistakes; phantoms of my past

I feel nothing but fear day by day

Knife in hand, I wonder if my next breath will be my last