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turning away i felt me change
taken away was my confidence, hope, and joy;
frustration, pain and stress took their place
so hidden where I hope the world can't see,
i spill the crimson red of a rose's petals from my body,
this blood I discharge covers and ease's
my strife and the world's pain,
it fills me with ecstasy and queer pleasure and contentment
to see the blood and feel the sting and warmth of the tear.
after my deed I try to hide my shame with the cloth.
when does this Hell end?
a cycle of pian, relief, and shame
takes me over and becomes my escape and hope.
