Oh ****
Oh ****
Oh ****
This is the deepest wound that I've cut
My skin split apart and the blood's dripping out
And everything's starting to turn dark

I'm scared.

But I guess that's what razor blades do
The imprint you,
They scar you of every battle that has formed you
Broken you.
They burn remembrance into your blood
And it just pools up and it floods
Exiting through the gashes you've made
Actions reflected from sorrow and self hate
The cuts were just a twisted form of fate
And they are and they will be
Just an escape from the world for a second.

But only a second.

Because once the blood flow ends,
The flow of thoughts take it's place.
Even while its bleeding your mind is there thinking.
The words come from events
The inspiration comes from the cuts
The blood
The bandages.

And then there's the pain.

But I guess that's what razor blades do
The imprint you,
They scar you of every battle that has formed you
So you can never ignore them
The memories are scared into your skin.
But scars must come from healed wounds
And healed wounds must come from self injury
And self injury must come from self hatred
And self hatred can end your life.

I hate myself.