six feet deep dug with a razor
deathbeds in virtical rows
deep scarlette wounds
lined on pale flesh of small wrists

numerous leathal insicions
accenting blue lines of life
pulsing beneath delicate skin
draining their miseries in red

growing colder and weaker
mild psychotic laughter
comes from lungs ravinous for air
as vision is lost to darkness

six feet under, cast out and forgotten
in one of many indentical deathbeds
wounds no longer bleeding
pale flesh rotting away

-Heather