Knife in hand, the pale skin glows. Can't take the pian, cut away the sorrow. Do this again tonight, And start again tomorrow. Cut the pain, Slice the sorrow, the pale skins glows as there is no warning, because it's all gone forever in the morning.
I have perfect placement for all this hate, All the torment I can not escape. As the knife presses down it all comes out, sit and I think, "Does this really help, how?" It helps me for a while, But only for now.
No longer scared of the pain, it takes it away. Is it helping "Of course." Maybe it's making things worse.
Pale skin glows red, There was never any warning. Everything I was was gone by the morning.
