she drags the razor blade across her skin
watching as the first layer splits.
the blood dont rush like in the movies
Gotta give it a few seconds,
gotta know what you're doing.
tears rush
beat the blood
ah, there it is,
vibrant and reflective
as the wine bleeds a little more than she expected
the blade comes off of her arm as she cries
"that really hurt" as she lies
truth be told she doesnt feel a thing
the tears arent real and neither is she

this is her story
the girl isnt me
the girl is a ghost that i sometimes see.