Lace

I feel the salt
Against my face
Making patterns
Of intricate lace

I wash the lace
Down the drain
Yet it is no use
It is a stain

It is visible
To only me
I break the mirror
So i cannot see

The pain of blood
I do not feel
Only pain of mind
Makes it real

Clutch the glass
My fingers blush
I feel where
My blood does rush

Slide into warmth
Water turns to red
Let the warmth
Devour my head

Let me lay
In this somber place
Leave me here
To thread my lace