Work Text:
I’m bleeding out, the blood drips through my hands, It spills across the floor in dark and silent strands.
I look a mess, stained red from head to feet, I am a mess, something no one wants to meet.
People walk past, their footsteps passing slow, Ignoring all the blood that spreads across the floor below.
I need help, but no one ever seems to see, No one stops, no one looks at me.
Because the blood is not the kind that others see or feel, It’s every hidden thought my mind cannot conceal.
So people pass me by while I silently plead… Unknowing that my silent thoughts are what make me bleed.