The claws of the night force their way through your walls, crawling through your house until they bleed you out, leaving you to die with no possessions, no family and nothing but the claws to haunt you in the after life.
My definition of Bleeding as a metaphor: Life Hungry!
When most people think of bleeding, I think of my above definition. What makes you live? What makes you want to do something more than you’re doing.
Life has always ran around me with a razor blade, small cuts on the exterior, but I’ll always remember how I got the scars. It’s the who, when and where in our lives that makes us live it.
We don’t know how long we’re here, this dance keeps going for a while. The music doesn’t stop until we do. Should you dance, or stand around the outside of the room waiting to pick someone.
Our thoughts fade about the who, when or where, but there is something about that razor blade I always remember. It’s the small cuts, the ones that make me bleed for something more. Wishing I was doing something more.
I’ve found that bleeding for something makes me stronger. I’ve always known that the drops of blood spilt would lead to something.
I took control of the razor blade to make it happen. I keep the razor blade close to me, but it’s still there waiting to cut me. I know I’ll bleed from the wound; it doesn’t worry me.
All cuts are learning experiences. We bleed from them, we learn that somethings are better left alone.
The blade dances before us, its tip ready to slice us. We wait for it to move away, but we’re cut in the process. The blade bleeds us out, drying us into tattered husks of skin. There’s nothing left of us but the blood, the small drops on the ground, the leftovers of who we were, when we were and what we were.
Are you Bleeding for something? Leave a reply in the comments.