Gets Ugly

Every drop that ran down
was a paintbrush stroke
in red and blue
As they carve their fears upon me
I had asked for death
and there she was
As the earth pulled back it's fingers
as the fire spewed out
my chest and back
Beautiful brush strokes and colors
I'm your canvas now
make me red and black
Just a seconds slip in silence
after that it's all
a morning haze
and I find myself beside me
needing bandages
again.

-BH