Blood flows
The woman bleeds
A ravenous pain
She's on her knees
It needs to feed
Beyond her defeat
She dreads the day
She'll feel the heat
It will consume
It needs to bleed
No hindrance for
Any blissful retreat
She knows nothing of peace
Nothing of the quiet
Lackluster advice is to change her diet
She waits in fear
For its silent return
Numb to the fear
Of feeling the burn
As sure as the sunsets
Its hunger will grow once more
And leave her helpless
On the bathroom floor
The medicine she's given
Does not work like a charm
Each month rolls around
Causing irreparable harm
The flow abates
She takes a breath
Again, this month
She danced with death
She can take solace
In the next few weeks
Until her respite
Reaches it peak
No escape
It knows no remorse
Next month it'll return
Of course
About the Creator
Sian N. Clutton
A horror and thriller writer at heart, who's recently decided to take a stab at other genres.
I sincerly hope you find something that either touches your soul or scares your socks off.
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Silence
I don’t remember the day the world ended. But I do remember the day I noticed. That photo was it, but I did not know what it meant until I sat in my darkened bathroom, staring at the newly developed film. The street was neither empty, nor abandoned. It was dead. The colours of the flowers wrapped in that red ribbon caught my eye, and as I crouched to take that photo, I could hear only the lonely silence of a graveyard after dark.
By Alexander McEvoy5 days ago in Fiction
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