Disconnected

Heat courses through my skin,
And the blade becomes hot.
And while I bled upon the floor,
Bleeding I was not.
Yet red is red either way it flows,
I did not cut myself I know.
So while the dripping cursed my veins,
I wished to bleed against the grain...
And bleed and bleed although it stopped,
To catch it's breath and gently mop,
Itself up from the cold hard ground,
I decide to loose myself there down,
And throw myself into it's spill,
To find out where and if it will,
Keep me there away from him,
Or send me home to dive and swim,
Into the pool so bitter dark,
And drink it up yet leave it's mark,
To scar my skin reminding me,
Of how I wished to with him be.
But pull me out and sink it's teeth,
Into the full breast beneath,
The silky white yet lifeless skin,
And fill the blood from out within,
To make me see that writhing red,
And disconnect me from the dead,
That I may miss his warming kiss,
Into the cold and lonely bliss.