Each drop is a journey

One emotion

One time.

Watching as the fatal

drip,

drip,

drip,

pools onto the ground like a crimson river.

The clash of the blade as it sparks the ground,

leaving that trail,

that set of footprints,

while I trek deeper within the red.

These numbers reach higher levels

Heartrate ceasing,

Speed increasing,

A proportional equation and the math to this madness

As the answer equals need.

Each limb,

a disconnection to the motherboard,

hitting the bottom one by one.

One emotion.

One time.

But still, the hand pooled in crimson clutches the dulled blade yet again.