Issue 11.1 Fall 2015

11.1 cover image

 

 

Splattered with Blood and Pain

 

Christopher Runyan

 


Her face is pale and dark, concealed by a frown.

She can go all day without making a sound.

She is nameless, but not soulless...

she exists, only not in the minds of those around.

 

Her wrists hide scars where golden blood has poured.

Her eyes conceal an imagination that soars

and a heart more pure than freshly fallen snow.

All she sees are the scars and pain.

 

She can never sit still, her legs bounce up and down

as restless thoughts bounce around and around.

Some may call it scatter-brained...

I call it unwanted side effects.

 

She has the saddest eyes I've ever seen,

a couple years of people being mean

has added thousands to her understanding of humanity.

 

On the outside she's scarred, broken, and depressed.

She's pale, hopeless, and frail...let's just call her a mess.

 

This went to her head and one day she cut too far...

the blood ran out, covering up her scars,

until her last rattling breath shook her soul from her body.

 

Her soul was golden, a pure white masterpiece of beauty.

People couldn't see the good in the weary...

the beauty in the broken, the wisdom of the lost.

 

She's dead.

 

 

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