It starts with blood:
The image of it,
trickling down the back of my eyelids.
The trickle becomes a stream,
and then a flood.
It fills me up,
all my empty spaces,
but then the blood isn’t red anymore.
It’s black,
oppressing,
feels like my head is going to explode.
The only way to relieve the pressure is to open the flood gates,
let it spill out.It'
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