Bleeding Angel (An Original Poem)
Bleeding Angel
You say I'm delusional,
but just the one who
tells me
I'm a bleeding angel
will call me off my ledge.
She screams with her
eyes but all I see is
bloody tears and
bloody palms and bloody clothes.
I see her falling but
she won't win this
round of roulette.
It wasn't a surrender of
hope but an
exploitation of it.
Her eyes bare into me.
My breath dares her.
The end doesn't stop us
from hurting each other.
She smirks as the knife
tumbles down her hands.
I sigh as I fall back
into the arms of an end.
I can feel her take her
last breath as I hit the earth.
Even in death
our love is spite.
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Image Source : Pixabay
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