I am woven in scars, my arms, my flesh
I wanted to feel something, tired of being numb
A sort of surgery, a form of self awareness
The razor cuts a straight line, in one strike
Finally able to breathe, the cut takes away my breath
The pain's crawling, my heart beats like a drum
A crimson line upon the flesh, demarcation
Separation of skin from muscle, epidermis
In the depths of despair, I let the pain bite
As the sensation fades away, cessation
Exactly what I'll feel upon death
Nothing
