What if I scraped these layer of skin off my wrist
Like peeling a head of lettuce
Layer
by layer
by layer
Until I reached the last layer of my vein
Then all it would take would be
one
little
scratch

The cold metal
The crisp slice the blade against its self

It's tempting,
to say the least

The scissors only go so far
There things in the garage
It wouldn't be so hard

It could be as easy as
one
little
scratch