Blood From My Fingertips Poem by Izobelle Pulgo

As I write these words tonight

Blood will flow

Trickling

Down

Down

Down.

My finger

Bleeds

My heart

Weeps

The wounds

Cry.

It's all the same

The words will be shadows

Before it sees

The light of dawn

There it will stay

In the dark

Unheard.

Blank pages

Of unwritten truth

Forgotten

Buried

Six feet below.

And as I write these words tonight

And the past seals my lips

Blood will

F
l
o
w

From my fingertips.