it sits on the counter,
so warm and so red,
it sits on the table,
next to the bed,
the crimson red piture of blood,
quietly spilling over the floor,
leaking out of my mouth,
silently taking my life,
one dropp at a time,
a pitcher of blood.
Alicia Roseberry
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-piture-of-blood/