Let it bleed...

This is not a small cut thats bleeds
and scabs and flakes and heals
It lasts forever, a scar
twisting down my life.
the physical, a sign of strife.
And i'm not afraid to bleed
and cry
and die
and lie
I want the pain of payment!
Despite how twisted the need is.
whats left but a section of raw cuts?
not unlike the ocean of a thousand tears
cried throughout these agonizing days that feel like years.
Would you be my broken angel?
would you be my razor blade?
And make marks for
the guilt to be made red liquid.
To fill and spill over and under my racing thoughts
Crimson dripping down the blade
Every single scar is a sacrifice made, a
hurt felt. A emotionless moment.
my deranged, selfish, sorry cryout to the knife
I'm cutting, trying to image my black, broken heart
Picturing the dark road leading to a brand new, bloodstained start.
Love is not like anything...
especilly not a fucking knife!!!
that is the absense of it, or rather,
the need for it.
The shame crawls though and down my spine
taking the easy way out, drawing these twisted little red lines
as a escape.
And oh,
do you think
thats is me?
Or its not me?
What do you see?
Oh i dont even care.
I'm alive
in a way
but its also a sort of dead
if you may.
Cause can you call it living?
Depending on these cuts?
Is it being alive?
oh no, i dont think so.
This person isnt me
this mask wrapped up in lace
and these cuts define me really
telling my i'm a disgrace
My stomach hurts now
my heart could snap in two
I hope for a realization to hit me
in the face.
I pray for every chance
to simply fall from grace
The last thing i feel is sickness
and i'm telling you why i'm a fake...
for covering up the cuts and tears i make
for hiding my need to kill myself with a stake
for falling down, drowing in a black, cold lake.
Loosing my need to breath
depending only on the ever-grinning knife
to be the source of ongoing life
Its the only thing that keeps me going now
otherwise i'd be going now
These scars are showing how
disturbed i've become,
how sick.
This posions my intoxication
the knife a manifestation
of all thats wrong in my mind
I let the blood stain the knife,
rise behind my distress and calm it
like the waters of a sea.
And what do you see as you look at me?
Nothing real or alive.
Was there ever a time when i wasnt bleeding?
A large cut thats never healing...
And a smile thats so misleading
Posions more potent now with the flame.
Bringing heat to this tragic game.
Let it bleed and
watch the crimson glitter in the light
Laugh so hollow
and push the blade down with all my might.
The most i can do for you is to keep on lying
and crying alone
just let it be!
just let it bleed...