With the cold blade pressed against my porcelain skin
Slowly pressing down and pulling across my delicate wrists
The crimson river starts to flow rapidly
The emotional pain is gone; drowned out by the pain of the blade cutting my skin
Slowly I'm dieing; the crimson river wont stop flowing
Everything is lost in the crimson nothingness
Will she be ok? is all you hear in the distance
You open your eyes; Whoa! where are you?
Someone is sticking you with a needle
Trying to lift your arm you scream in pain
Lifting your dizzy head ; is that stitches you see?
All this from one simple cut you tought
Next time it wont be so deep!
