Day 159

Is it silly to think I could just bleed you out of my veins with words? Tired poetry just doesn't work like it used to. I thought for every word I wrote part of you would seep out of my veins but I've written a million words and you are stronger than ever. What more is there to do? Break my skin and watch my blood fall to the earth? Maybe actions really do speak louder than words.
But what if, after it all, you're still there?