The blade against our vein.

Those of you who bleed will know
What it's like to see
The blood dripping down your arm,
It makes us feel so free.

To feel that steel against your wrist,
The blade against your vein,
It cuts so deep and hurts so much,
It's the simple pain we crave.

Things seem to go against us,
Fate, life, prosperity,
Cruelty and sadness,
Feelings such as ours were never meant to be.

Our journey to Hell is already mapped,
Down the Devil's road we travel,
We watch, so detached, through eyes not our own,
As our Destiny's unravel.

We seem to dodge happiness,
Not purposely, but still through the flame,
Heaven's gates feel closed to us,
But only if we succumb to Death's name.

Each day we awake to be,
Yet again, confronted by our fears,
Each night we drift to sleep from exhaustion,
Our eyes filled with salty tears.

© Copyright of Holly Nia Goodson