Oh that bitter sweet mix of remorse and aspirations
Bring happiness beyond my wildest imaginations,
But thus I sink the dagger deeper into my chest
For I can't be forgiven... unless

Unless I welcome the dirk to use my carmine ink
I invite, no demand
That I carve myself
By MY hand.
So the world knows
The monster that I am.

But I cower behind my sleeves and laughter
So THEY don't know the disaster
Of what I fancy. What I'm after


That I long for the blade.
That I yearn for the pain.

But they still talk of hope
What an absolute joke
That "every cloud
has a silver lining."
Tell that
To my blood stained razor blades
leave my wrists crying.