Poetry

When you were talking about purity of 
Platelets 
I was thinking to let the blood flow. 
How easy it has become to kill now? 
Is it not homecoming of the violence? 
 
You were looking for a method to execute 
yourself 
and I was searching for an answer to 
become free from bondage of self-contradiction. 
The veins are bulging on my hands. Death 
will not be happy to see me. The blood 
has already frozen. 
 
From your side and from world’s view 
the ending of conscience is the right thing 
But I squirm and I scream, 
gallows are forever.