The blade always calling my name,
Every night and day.
But this time, the urge just won't go away.
So I get out my dearest friend,
The one on which I depend.
I roll up my sleeve,
And wait to be relieved.
As I begin,
A smile creeps up my chin.
One, two, three, four.
Not enough blood.
I need more.
I slish and I slash.
My skin and the blade start to clash.
As I say goodbye to my dearest friend,
I tell him I'll be seeing him again.
Soon.
