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Blood runs from the cuts
Fresh on my wrist.
The razorblade clenched in my fingertips,
Blood dripping from the sharp edge.
Watching the dark liquid run down my arms,
I think.
I think bout the past and think
Bout the future.
At this rate, I wont have a future.
Thanks to you.
You promised my so much,
You made me believe everything you said.
You even went as far as telling me
That you loved me.
And I was stupid enough to
Believe you, to love you.
I turn my pack for a moment,
For a brief minute I turned my back.
I turn back and see you as you are.
A deceitful, manipulative, corresponding,
Tyrant, monstrosity being.
I hope you burn in Hell
For making me bleed like this.
Me and my bloody wrists.