Today, dear Victoria , I bleed.
My feelings are beyond any grief
Old wounds still left unhealed
Much more sore than before, it’s sick.
Scarlet blood flows freely,
Like water rushing without a course.
Carving new wounds, it hurts.
Red blood gushes, to where, I don’t know.
Pain cuts deep in my memory
In ugly crevices I’ve never seen
Probing further, slowly stealing my verve
I am bleeding badly, it kills.
Blood, sweet Victoria, is life.
Red, hot, warm, so alive.
If my bleeding means I’m up
Then blood, just flow out, I’d be glad.