Depression is eating me slowly.
Depression
is loving skin that isn't his to claim
Cutting it up and naming it, as his...his own beautiful scars.
Why doesn't it hurt?
Blood running down my own skin that soon became skin unknown.
But don't get me wrong for once
the pain has stopped
and i don't feel like i'm drowning anymore
As blood runs down i can feel the pain
disappear, that's why cutting skin
that doesn't feel like my own are scarred up with what i call remorse