Splatter. The blood dripped from my nose
Onto the white paper covered in words
And now the essence of me.
Folded into pages. The coursing part of me.
Is it real ? Are we brothers bound in blood ?
Can the tiny trail I leave behind
Serve to remind
The world of my existence ?
Will a girl read these pages and crinkle her nose?
As I crinkle mine to keep from overflowing.
Do I matter ?
Blood on a page can last longer than in my veins.
Passed from hand to hand through the ages
Life on pages.