Blood Letter

When she told me that she wrote the letter with her blood I smelt it. Blood red letters winked at me from her letter. A letter written with letters. 'Blood letters', she whispered in my ears. I looked at her. Madness danced in her eyes. Her eyes told me to keep reading the letter. I smelt it again. All I could smell was ink, blood red ink. I looked back at her. She had an unsettling smile on her face. 'This is ink', I told her. Her smile hid behind her mad eyes. Before I could do anything she grabbed a knife and cut her arm. She was bleeding. Something familiar was spreading its smell all around. Ink, blood red ink. She was bleeding ink.

survival

blank walls inside me,

poking me,

laughing at the idea of breathing stones;

dead walking children crying for food crushed me

under their lifeless feet dancing in the sun.

life survived after killing too many lives.