aching in my fingertips
the blade moves to and fro,
a nick a cut a little blood
the pleasure starts to grow.
obsession takes over mind,
and i begin my dance,
back and forth i cut i slice
till blood has filled my hands.
with this blood i wash my heart,
of torment and my pain,
i move my obsession to my arms...
and start the dance again.
back and forth a liberation,
my pain becomes my sorce,
felling better i cut away
feeling no remorce.
noone to care noone to cry,
so alone i wash myself...
with every cut comes another slice,
to free me from my cell
i stop the dance
and drop my blade
satisfied i cry,
with cuts so deep
alone i weep...
to a cutters lullibye
|
Submission Name: Cutters lullibye
