My blood is fighting against me.
I can feel it squirm throughout the day, a sharpness that begs for reciprocation.
I’m burning up all of my second chances for just a few moments of relief.
It’s nothing new, waking up to dried lengths of crimson.
It’s nothing new.
I take some solace in the fact that it still hurts.
Because that’s my only proof.
It’s undeniable proof…that I’m still human…