Drops of blood splash on my shoe,
Making the puddle spread.
I've learned to love this self abuse,
Numb fingers tingling and dead.

I feel the pain, but how I love it,
Such satisfaction as I suffer.
Arms tremble with each new hit,
As I force myself to be tougher.

Tightly clenched within my right,
The tool I use to shred and slice.
My left trembling and flashing in flight,
Spasming as it pays the ****** price.

I lose myself in the death melody,
Loving the tension and the thrill.
The riffs I tear are all I see,
Honing this painful new skill.

I'm blinded to the outside world,
Surrounded in my own new sound.
Satisfaction with each lick and curl,
With every drop that hits the ground.

The strength I feel wells up inside,
I am so completely in control.
I've found a rage in which I confide,
Where my frustration takes its toll.

Slashing down, sliding, bending,
Power chords of self abuse.
Flashing frets, fingers rending,
I love it, no excuse.

So many came before my time,
Lost to the ******, steely rush.
I let the pain continually remind,
They too paid for the touch.

The puddle spreads, yet I won't cease,
Cutting and shredding my own new scars.
Playing into this agonizing release,
Leaving blood stains on my guitar.