Thursday, November 19, 2015

Fear - A Poem

The stained floor;

it continues to bleed no matter how hard I scrub.


It lives.


It thrives.


The blood on my knuckles weaves within it.


A constant reminder


that you'll always come back to haunt me. 




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This is an original piece from 2013. I thought it was lost forever. Once lost, now recovered and republished.


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Write a blog post inspired by the word: stain


Mama’s Losin’ It

3 comments:

  1. that would haunt me too, nice job. Stopping by from mama kats kelley at the road goes ever ever on

    ReplyDelete
  2. Wow, that's really haunting. You have a wonderful talent for creating a picture!

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