Girl, I love those scars
that branch up and down your arms.
Girl, I see those eyes
that stare daggers and stare knives.

I'll get you to feel again
when you see my fake smile.

I'll get you alive again
at least for a little while.

But at the end of the day
once I've had my way,
I'll leave you just like the last
guy from your horrid past.

Because I don't want to insist,
but I don't care for your happiness.
Because you can't forget once you've learned this,
I only want my name bleeding from your wrist.

I only want to be another tally mark
of scar tissue on your thigh.

I only want to leave you in the dark
and listen to you silently cry.