• Patterns weaving in my head
    Turning, churning
    Slicing them

    Red and Blue
    Like America
    But this time it is true

    Green and Orange
    Walking by
    Sun reflecting off the shine

    White and shadows
    Covering
    Hidden secrets in my head

    Thoughts are pounding
    Making waves
    Unnoticed by the senses, then

    Out of nowhere
    The need comes
    Burning through my skin

    Hard clenching
    But the grip is soft
    Beating in my chest

    When it opens
    The pain blooms
    So good, So pure

    Blood