I look down at my blood-stained hands
They're shaking,
but I hardly notice
It's so much blood
(My blood)
(Willingly drawn)
It never used to be this much.
Why doesn't it scare me more?
Why doesn't it hurt?
It used to hurt.
Now it's like a sick comfort.
I'm getting closer and closer
to something.
I don't know.
I do this to hold it off.
But it just brings it nearer.
Each drop shed
becomes the pieces of my soul
Falling away.