Carvings on my bare skin,
going in and out again.
Cirvs and lines all over,then starting around the corner.
Of my white arm the blood runs red, barley feeling any dread.
After i am finally dun i look at my arm in glee.The pain that i once felt is no longer with me, so i sit down on the floor wile the crimson blood runs to the door. i fall backwards and close my eyes, knowing that i will soon die. And when I'm found on the floor people will know soon and more, that the cause of my death started with simple carvings to my arm...
