The Blood

There’s blood on her wrists as she screams

Feeling the weight of her anger

And the fear

Of never escaping her pain

There’s blood on his face as he cries

Falling first to the table

Then to the floor

As though the house could swallow him whole

There’s blood on her face as she tries

To hold him up as he falls

Trying to ignore

That he’s never cried this hard before

There’s blood on the floor as she scrubs

Trying to remove the stains

Of the night

Before she just sits, and stares in shock

The room is quiet

The house is quiet

The world feels empty

But for her screams