I keep a knife at the ready
It is cold, clean and always sharp
At the break of dawn, I cut myself
That is usually how the day starts
Each stroke is carefully crafted and confident
My incision is a work of art
Not a second is wasted, no move without purpose
I have carefully rehearsed every part

I deepen the wound
And relish at the gush of warm blood
I deepen it further
I enjoy watching myself come apart

But when teetering on the edge, I pull it back
I carefully dab the red away
And stitch myself back up again
Without so much as a scar
The world would never know the cut was even there
For my technique is flawless
It doesn't leave a mark

If you can't pull me back from the edge
Won't you atleast have the courtesy to push me off it

I'm not disheartened
I'm disillusioned

Everytime I manage to accidentally climb my way back on to that pedestal with you, why do I fool myself into thinking this will last forever, why do I forget my true place. Lost in my dreams of greatness by proximity, why don't I remember how bad it hurt to hit my head on that last fall from grace

I'll be done being mad at the world
When I get some good news