Sunday, 9 March 2014

Sleeping dead

I woke up shivering,
Your hands,
Gripped in mine,
Were cold and unfeeling,
I leaned over to catch you,
Before you leave,
Too late too late,
The veins no longer bleed,
As free,
As when the knife left that cut,
On one of your wrists,
That were entwined with me.

~Rei Shiori

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