The words spill from my lips
Almost like a broken faucet.
My veins are blue and close under my skin
Just like lines drawn on a map.
The scars on my wrists are pale and gorgeous,
Like the last rays of sunlight in the evening.
The friends I once had
Fade away like the waning moon.

Never have I seen
A faucet like this.
This map is
Strange to read.
The sun is setting
On glinting razors.
The night is
Not where I want to be.