This old warship has wounds

Red is beautiful.
Red is hurt.
Red is catharsis.
Red is blood.

I run, I sprint, I fly.
I fall on my face and hurt my eye.
I can’t see you for what you are,
only that everytime you look at me, you sigh.

I walk, I trudge, I plod.
I fall down and scratch my knee.
I hold up my arm, ask you to help me .
There’s nothing but empty air, nothing but despair.

I crawl, I worm, I slink.
I bleed from every part, my mouth bleeds dust.
I look around not for you, but for anyone,
anyone at all.

I am marooned and lifeless
I no longer look for someone, but something
Anything to ease this pain, ease the sting

I find a rusted old friend
I let her sit on my arm

I draw scars on me
to match the ones you gave me.

Title: Hurt. Alone with the sea.

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