bleach the blood and drop the rag

Black tears streaming down a pale face. Mascara drips from the eyes in stinging streaks. Blurred vision behind tinted glasses. 

The dark brings blood and together the brick wall shoves and groans. Run. Wipe away the tears and stop. Clear the mess, bleach the blood and drop the rag.

i wish i could run away to the place where my dreams welcome reality's troubles, place them in bubbles and send them away to open bliss. i wish.

this isn't a starved cry for a glance. nor the pitiful tears of romance.
i'm sad, its true. but don't worry i still have you.

I have the power of the prophets and the world at my fingertips.
I have the laughter and tears from these past eighteen years.

So read and leave. I can do it. I still believe.