Hemophilia

Deep sighs pour a puddle of dissatisfaction.

Frozen-

thoughts that never move.

My cerebral cortex has made a permanent association

with you

and this shower of pain.

Silent sobs form a river free of waterfalls

(the mouth cannot be found).

My heart is leaking,

the throb of my pen consumes me.

My dripping crimson invades the ink that marks the page.

Stains-

are what you will see when you read my wounded words.

Brown letters

cracking between horizontal lines

reveal bruises from falling,

for you,

and completely missing your arms.