3 acessos
writhing on the floor in pain
its myself that i maim
creating patterns in flesh with razor blades
as i peel each section of life away
pick away at every ounce of skin
until every thing is withered and dead inside
way too much time locked within my mind
allows me time to over-analyze everything to shit
i'm so alone, engulfed in these flames
i can't find a way out from this hell, where i'm enslaved
every waking minute becomes my dying hour
as my bleeding heart drips to the floor
can you feel my tears?
can you taste my blood?