Take my hand,
Look at my soft palm,
Doesn't it look like sand?
For once don't giggle, stay calm,
Just close your eyes.
Now, tell me...
Why don't you get
That my love for you is on the rise
Since the night we met ?

If these razors could talk, they'd spin tales of stories so intricate like the inside of a body, funny because that's how it felt every time a thin red line pouring out failure always seemed to feel like. If they could tell you anything I'd hope they'd tell you how hard I fought to keep it hidden and inside a box. Instead of thinking outside that box I would be caged inside it shoved in like sardines, that must be how it felt when they found the tools of new beginnings inside a container that blared the words normal in a big red sign. The color red will never seem normal to me I've seen it on sheets pooling out over my hands. The metal was a sidetrack a bump in the road the only one to feel it was the inside of these clothes and now they have left their mark. If the skin I crawl under could somehow paint you a time of when everything seemed "fine" I hope to god it twists your stomach like the veins inside my wrists curl around the bone woven together like the sewing needle my grandma just can't put down. The doctors glares were as cold as how each and every razorblade kiss was . if these razors could somehow show you that it was not their fault but mine, even the slightest twitch makes it seem impossible to not go back again and yet they are still there they chant the same tune every night and if you'd listen a little closer it'd go something like this "you got a little something on that clean skin you've covered up just enough and its time to pick your weapon and let the ritual of sins begin. Come a litter closer we can show you the world you won't have to feel and it'll be like a drug. Don't think just let the sharp begin to bite and I tell you now you can sleep tonight" the singsong rant is as empty as my box but yet it wounds deeper than I ever could. If these razors could talk, I hope and pray they tell you of every time there words got wedged into my skin like tiny little slivers from a wooden deck I had never sat on. If the sheets I tied over ever open wound showed you the evidence of an unfinished crime scene would you be able to stomach the fact these blades have control. If these razors could talk they'd tell you they aren't finished with me yet.

Confessing to God I am a sinner
LORD, every steps I take, I commit a sin.
Every word I speak, I commit a sin.
Every thoughts in my mind, I commit a sin.

I repent, I sin again.
A thousand times I have failed
Yet, so merciful is The Lord,
“ For great is Your mercy towards me,
And You have delivered my soul from the depths of Sheol”

Each steps I take, i commit a sin.
I am so weak, still Jesus loves me.
“For sin shall not have dominion over you,
For you are not under law but under grace.”

Each word I speak, i commit a sin.
I am so weak, still Jesus loves me.
“For when we were still without strength,
In due time Christ died for the ungodly.”

So now, I take an oath.
“Surely my lips shall not speak unrighteousness,
Neither shall my tongue utter deceit.”
“Therefore my heart rejoiced,
And my tongue was glad;”

Each thoughts in my mind, i commit a sin.
I am so weak, still Jesus loves me.
I kneel before You and praise You,
"For we know that the law is spiritual,
but i am carnal, sold under sin."

Confessing to the Lord I am a sinner.
“For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.”
But now I am saved through Christ our Lord.
For “whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.”

*“Blessed is the man who trusts in You!”
“Blessed be the Lord forevermore!
Amen and Amen”