Depression is eating me slowly. Depression is loving skin that isn't his to claim Cutting it up and naming it, as his...his own beautiful scars. Why doesn't it hurt? Blood running down my own skin that soon became skin unknown. But don't get me wrong for once the pain has stopped and i don't feel like i'm drowning anymore As blood runs down i can feel the pain disappear, that's why cutting skin that doesn't feel like my own are scarred up with what i call remorse