They never really said “stop”
Until the knife was fully in
And your blood was on my shirt
And my tears were on your skin
But you didn’t say a word
A face so unfamiliar
It turned to porcelain before my eyes
Had to close them, but I couldn’t
Wouldn’t touch a thing
Swallowed by impurity
Throat clasped against a wall
With my own hands and skin
Trying to tear my life away
Struck myself quick with a hammer 31 times
Till I passed out from the pain
It was the nicest feeling in the world
To forget it all
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 1:57 PM UTC
They never really said “stop”
Until the knife was fully in
And your blood was on my shirt
And my tears were on your skin
But you didn’t say a word
A face so unfamiliar
It turned to porcelain before my eyes
Had to close them, but I couldn’t
Wouldn’t touch a thing
Swallowed by impurity
Throat clasped against a wall
With my own hands and skin
Trying to tear my life away
Struck myself quick with a hammer 31 times
Till I passed out from the pain
It was the nicest feeling in the world
To forget it all
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