This is poem number two,

A Snow Coloured Body With a Pillow of Blood.

I’m stood here,
Watching,
Your blood running down your neck,
Onto the frosted floor,
Soaking deep in,
Red puddles surrounding your,
Still, Lifeless,
Head,
As a pillow.

Your coat,
Once so white,
Like winter snow itself,
Now stained,
A glistening,
Dark crimson,
In this dull autumn light.

Shreds of red dyed wool,
Hanging from your wound,
Your attacker hangs back,
In the covering forest,
Watching me closely,
I can’t calm you,
Or help you,
To ease your pain,
Or I’d lie,
Like you do now,
At my freezing feet,
Dying prey.

I can’t stay any longer,
I can’t wait and watch,
I have to go,
Back across your barren land,
To my home,
Where you wouldn’t have been,
Hunted.

I whisper,
My apologies,
My goodbyes.
But then I chance my luck,
I look to the shadows,
Of the haunting forest,
In the clearing,
I can’t see he’s watching,
Waiting,
And getting impatient.

Quickly,
I crouch,
Reach down,
Stroke your cooling body,
And lay my death gift,
To you,
On your soaked, heaving chest,
Whisper one last word,
And flee.

Okay this one’s a bit weird,I know. And a bit gross but tell me what you think any way.

Gemma Garrett .