What Happens to Me

Some say the taste of food is sublime,

For me blood will do just fine.

As it drips out of my wrist or leg,

I drink my blood by the keg.

Some say beautiful is a painting thats good,

I say its my waterfall of blood.

Red and sticky as it drips.

I scoop it up and lick my fingertips.

Don't judge me, I won't judge you.

For the crazy things we all do.

When you cry, your eyes turn red,

When I cry, doctors examine my head.

How is that fair?

Why should you care?

If the only thing that makes me fell better,

Makes my arms a little redder.

I don't do drugs, I don't smoke,

I don't shoot up, or snort coke.

Just let me be,

Then we'll see,

What happens to me.