roses
By eleanor maslen •
he crawls from the hand
that causes the scares
the one with the blade
its gone to far
he cant stop the blood
no matter how he tries
as he loosens his grip
and his wrists cry
hes fading from life
from the road he built
from the people he loved
like a rose when it wilts
his souls left his body
his mind a shell
for when one takes their life
their destined for hell.