Writing Until the Red Rose Withers

Writing Until the Red Rose Withers

Writing until the Red Rose Withers

Trickling down my hand

One drop at a time

Writing until it hurts

It aches with pain

The Red Rose blooms wistfully

My fingernails caked in it

My pinky finger still blooming at full pace

Blooming for all eternity

Shining, red, dripping.

One drop at a time,

Writing until the blood has stoped.

And, finally, finally, I can rest.

Author Notes: Another depressing one! Yay(not)! I wonder if you understood what the Rose is. Tell me in comments below!

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