Wrists are made for slicing
bones are made to brake...
I saw myself in you.
Your deepened placid barrier...
This place is not good,
This place is not right...
Jagged red leaves
crawl like dead hands...
He slides his fingers up through her hair.
It is merely dusk...
Slit my wrist
let me bleed...
Dare you walk with me
In the dwellings of the dead...
Cold Sweet on my face
Is how I woke again...
I used to be like you,
not a care in the world...
Blackened incisions scarred over
Now peeling back with blood...
In the night
somones gone...
Hatreds portal to a place deep within,
Dispose the deserts chill...