Rivulets and streams
Little red rivers of pain
Go coursing down my skin
Like a scarlet snake.

Why does it have to come to this?
Why do I have to do this
To make myself feel alive again?

And when the blood is washed away
The marks remain
Crimson I told you so's.
I hate it, I hate it
But what can I do?

I can't control what I do
Or what I feel.
I can't control the pain.
So how the hell
Do you expect me to stop?

Like you care anyway.
It's just a habit, right?
One you can kick
Like biting your nails
Then you'll be ok, right?
WRONG.

Forget you.
This is who I am.