Rivers Of Red Poem by Beau Bennett

Trapped inside
This crevis of self hate
Nothing but the memory of you
So I become irate
Hounds calling to the wind
Devils dancing in the night
Searching for your hand
Yet only blades are in my sight
I scream to end this night
I bleed to end this pain
Needles in my arm
Shadows in my brain
Remorse is but a memory
For shells now left undead
And love is but remorse
For it's eternally left unsaid
I only hate myself
No one else, nothing more
Until now I've only bled
But now my blood shall pour
Bleeding out an ocean
In which love is cursed to drowned
I don't bleed for your compassion
Yet I bleed for what's unfound

WRITTEN BY BEAU BENNETT 11/16/ 97 DEDICATED TO M.M.