Its been so long,
It seems my fingers don't remember how it feels to hug a cool, perspiring bottle
They don't remember how painkillers feel as they hit my palm, bouncing against sleeping pills and folds of skin
It seems my fingers do not remember the right angle to hold a dull blade so that my insecurities can seep through the cracks I made in my own flesh;
It seems, destruction is no longer a virtue
It is no longer my most coveted talent,
How to self destruct is no longer my manual
My wires don't need cutting,
But they are fraying real bad.
Alcohol may be poison but what better way to kill what's inside me?
They say red and white looks nice together, how does death look on me?
Clean, linear slices are not a problem for me, but controlling the number, there's where the problem is!
See while my soul leaks out my head onto my hair,
My demons claw at my insides!
They press against my ribcage and tear up my organs, they squeeze me lungs and contort my stomach,
But you ask me why I won't eat..
The pressure becomes too much and so I took to letting them out through my wrists,
When I realized those lines were paved avenues to get back in
So this time,
I will tear open my chest,
Release my demons,
And lock my heart inside its cage.
