She hid among thorns,
liking the way they tore at her flesh;
Counting the drops of blood
became an obsession,
hypnotized by the tiny red streams
trickling down her ivory skin...
living art,
beautiful in affect,
but not to be shared.
A masterpiece for her eyes only...
hidden from a world
who would never understand.


Comments: 29
Would you like to post this to my group, Anythingwriting ?
It's for poems, stories and drabbles.
I would accept it without delay!
~E
Thanks your for posting to Poetry by Us
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