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Description
Acrid copper coats my senses
with a hint of iron for flavor.
Once again my white skin
is awash with my red flowing blood.
It spreads like a stain,
an unwashable blot
forming an 'I' on my face
rather than a scarlet 'A'.
My blood must hate me.
It's so eager to escape
that it bursts out at every opportunity,
even flooding my throat at night,
until I awake choking and gasping -
spreading red droplets everywhere.
Unless this is a birth?
My drops like seeds or fish eggs
sent out into the cruel world?
Life and death in crimson flows
and it alone knows the difference.