I don't want to reopen my old wounds
But it’s just the only thing I have left to do
There's nothing more to be said about me
Except for a condolence or a passing apology

Picking at the ***** scars, hoping for an infection
Hoping the festering bacteria would spread through
Hoping for sensation, or something maybe close
Hoping that these old wounds would feel brand new

I’m already too numb to ask for more medication
Already too debilitated to beg for a final miracle cure
I’m already too sick, far too late to try on and on
Already at the brink of extinction to still feel unsure

I’m opening old wounds, bleeding them out to dry
Doing everything they all told me not to do, only left out to die
There’s nothing more to be done, no band-aid left to rip
These old wounds seem useless when there’s nothing left in me to fix.