Yeah, I cut. What’s your point?
The razor blade pierces my satin skin
Cold metal against my pure warm blood
Excitement rising as deeper it goes
“This is it, this is relief”
The sharp edge sways along the bumpy path
Dark marks begin to form among its edge
Almost there, almost better
One by ten the form, bloodier, wetter,
I climb the heights of a new limit
Digging as far as ill go
And I feel it, sweet relief
As the scar begins to form.