Objects of Escape

I'm hiding from the knife
Escaping all glass mirrors
Trying to release pain
Through razor blade tears

I hide in the darkest place
Trying not to see
All of these objects
That might set me free

I am all alone
Fighting with this anger inside
Not wanting to give in
But in the knife I confide

Tears turn into blood
As the knife takes its place
Deep in skin
With a soul to erase

All of the pain
The pills and the booze
Soon I will need none of these
There will be no need to use