Work Text:
blood like a stream, and a towel like a boat,
the boat does not save me, i think,
it wont be enough to help me float,
is it enough to make me sink?
a bandage like a rope,
so close to my leg,
is this how im supposed to cope?
i want to cry, to let it go,
but neither can happen,
i am so low,
my feelings just worsen.
what do i say when i want to speak about it,
or can i not figure the words to,
my lip has bruises from where i bit,
what am i supposed to do.
my arm is a riddle,
do you know what that means?
now, i feel really little,
or maybe a bit more like a.. machine.