A knife to my heart.
I stand as I contemplate, whether I want this
or not.
The sharp blade, lightly caressing my skin,
before puncturing through.
There´s no pain that I haven´t felt.
I´m not giving up,
I´m letting go.
I´m letting go of all the sorrows,
that follows me everywhere I turn.
No substance can distract me,
from falling in love with the blade in my hand.
I used to think it did.
Those days are over.
No love can stop me from bleeding.
No promises can heal my scars.
As I bleed myself dry,
I get this feeling.
I´m finally free.