I woke up this morning with a nosebleed and my mind started wondering. As I laid there on my bed with a warm wet rag resting on my face, I pondered into a plethora of thoughts. These thoughts spiraled into a poetic piece. This piece was inspired by the nosebleeds that I'm "iconically" known for.
Dry air. Wet pillow.
Puddle of maroon paint.
This is typical, no need to worry.
It's just the pieces of a girl,
Who fought through a tough week.
It's the Lord saying,
"Remember what you're made of."
Blood.
The blood of an infinite king.
It's the equivalent of a promise ring.
Commitment to yourself,
And your health.
A mental ring that was given to you
Through your self conscious,
From a guy who's not always cautious
About the feelings of the girl he promised to call
His.
Sending pictures of the skin that holds,
his rib cage and abdominal muscles,
Expecting the same from the female,
But the location is different.
The skin that holds her gluteus maximus.
She's not that type of girl.
The type of girl who hurls
Her body out there,
For a guy she's only known for
Two weeks tops.
Instead, she sends a picture of the skin,
That covers her skull.
Waking up in the middle of the night,
Wondering if what he wanted from her has changed.
He's seen the picture,
But forgot to respond...
Or did he?
One week.
The amount of time she waiting before,
Peeling him out of her life.
The week of silence, was the week,
She found him talking to another female figure.
Anger.
Irritation.
Rage.
Passion.
Lost.
Waste.
Of.
Time.
Loss of sleep.
Wet eyes.
Broken hearted girl.
Things silently thrown in a space full of darkness,
all alone.
She sits as her chest heaves at a fast pace,
Blood pressure at it's peak.
Dry air. Wet clothes.
Puddle of maroon paint.
Dripping down her philtrum.
Typical, no need to worry.
It's just the pieces of a girl who,
fought through,
a hard week.
"Remember what you're made of."
Blood.
The blood of a infinite king.
