Sweet little metal thing is lying in my hand. Sweet little metal blade in my shaking fingers your not even an inch in length and still. Still you have the power to do what I can't. You bring me to an other place and state of mind while just lying there in my open hand waiting for your time to shine in dark red liquid. A glas of burning liquor stops my hands from shaking while I search for courage to put my little metal thing back in to the dept of my nightstand where no one's gonna look. I'm not gonna risk a scar I don't deserve my beautiful moon as it is I can't get ugly scares and expect that beauty to still love me. So I look back at the razor blade in my hand and let it slip out of my still a bit shaking fingers not today I think and go out to akt alright for another day.
