Open Wounds Poem by Andrus Cassian

Blood, hungry
hungry for the sight of blood pouring onto the floor
A virtual well of emptying out past recollections
tainted time capsule that didn't mean a single thing
The red liquid seeping out so slow yet so dark
like the concept of truth and lies
Mirror, mirror dry your eyes; it's not your fault
You didn't place a blade to your face and wrists
cause the truth burned so red and hot, a fire
The muffled melodies of a tiny band of men
trapped in a music box play through the dark
an act of soothing
erasing the want and the wish to go the way of a failed samurai
yet instead of honor, it would just cease the pain
Rage, this rage has yet to be quelled
raise a hesitant fist to break the glass
that brings out the reflection of hurt
Sleep, what good could sleep bring
when dreams turn nightmares
only to realize sleep never came at all
Is running an option
Run, where to
a park with a mountain view
and stab the pain where it aches
so it can sing its own eulogy
while the world fades to black