You always think of the blade
How nice it would feel
That pretty crimson shade
The only time you seem real
But no
Maybe it can wait another day
My escape...friend or foe?
Not ashamed of the scars, rather what they'll say
Darling, these scars will fade
Please, don't harm
As you throw away those things, your scars they made
When the urge comes, no need to alarm
Sit
Breath
No more falling apart, bit by bit
Cry if you need
If there's any tears left
I don't know if it will
But I hope it gets better
