I ride the sandpaper
                  Slide to hell.
My flesh slowly
                 Exfoliates upon the
Surroundings like snow.

I try to hold on
                      To the sides but
Ground glass meets
                        A thousand paper cuts
Meet my every reach.

                            Every thought I
Have burns eroding within,
                                   My mind decaying
Like tears I reach
                    The culmination of a
Slide to Damnation.

Flesh withers on my frame,
I am but a single thought
Regret
          Regret
                    Regret,
Is my punishment
           In this cage
Of my own doing.

                     I look into
The tattered remnant
                           Of my soul
           And only see snow
                                                Falling Into a
            Bleak pool of nothing.

A child thought,
my cuts,
where just from,
paper
*cuts.