FRoM THe CuP

 

THIRSTY

8.5″ x 11″ Pen on Paper

 

Last drop out the cup of the coldest water you were no more. Looking out of different eyes to see the daggers thrown. Words turned into whispers into blood. Pain that the brightest sky couldn’t cure. But the sun will always rise. It will always rise. Blood into whispers turned into words. Pulled knives from the heart let the blood flow out. Fill the cup so full it overflows onto the ground. He comes to your side. He lifts you up. Turns blood into water and you are reborn. Lift yourself up from off the ground. Find the strength. Find the fight. Find the way. Find the light. Drink from the cup. Get back up.