• The feeling of blood,
    Oozing from your body like poison.
    The feeling of the blade,
    Sliding across your skin like paper.

    Perfect.

    I watch the blood drip to the floor,
    See it splash against the wood.
    The blade keeps sliding,
    Till it comes off my arm.

    Perfect.

    The mark it leaves behind,
    Reminds me everyday.
    How the blood left me like fog,
    The feeling of cutting.

    Perfect.