Not about me.
Shutting my eyes and enjoying the blade run through my skin
The deepest cut's another sin.
Dripping from my hand onto the floor
Making me feel like a *****.
Are my eyes as they see
The blood once mine spilling from me.
Is the door and curtains in this room
Trying to avoid others in my tomb.
My hand into a fist
Beginning the deepest one on my wrist.
Is my blood drying on the ground
As I begin to lie around.
For my bleak end to begin
The light fades and so I grin.