My Final Bleed

In the sky there’s no trace of
The tears it cried last night.
On my way home the wipers wiped my eyes.
It’s funny how the sky was cut and bleeding rain,
Yet I remained the same.

Still no pearly drop has left my eye,
No shuddered shake did I equake.
I’ll remember the things of last night, though;
The smell of the rain through the open window,
The whiff of fruits from my shampoo.

I got home and removed my clothes,
Sat about in my favourite hoodie;
That same hoodie, don’t you know,
And remembered playground talks with you,
And the laughter, and sparkling eyes.
And I’m glad it ended like it has,
‘Though it’s a shame it had to;
Ignorance might have been bliss.

And the stuff we could have been,
And the things we could have done,
Now remain, flitting atoms;
Waiting for a time, perhaps,
Maybe just for dreams.

But I got home late last night,
And found my final bleed.
I guess it’s blood owed;
I would have given it up the same.

But it signifies an ending;
A neat finality to what we were.
And these words; a final splurge
Of ink on the page.

I’ve bled my final bleed for you.
I didn’t cry a drop.