On the Razor's Edge.
I feel nothing,
FUCK LIKE SICK DESPAIR.
All this suffering.
Goddamn DON'T YOU CARE?
Here's the rope, tie me up to the bed.
Pull it hard, break the skin,
TAKE ME OUT OF MY HEAD.
There's just ONE THING, all I ask you to do.
A small something;
here's my body to use.
Place my soul in a box, and believe.
The world's not ready
The fall
misery.
Count down the days,
that you have kept me alive.
IN THIS PLACE ONLY THE WILLING SURVIVE.
It's my pleasure cut with one hand.
I'm the
queen of the dark
I command.
There's just one thing, all I want you to do.
A small something, here's my body to use.
Show the world how to fear and blaspheme.
Here's the rope, pull it tight,
SHOW ME DARK AND OBSCENE.
The smoke clears and in whispering waves of self mutilation I see the dark sky fall to pieces,
THE WORLD IS SOMETIMES TOO HEAVY TO BREATHE and the dead surround me
like an ocean.
I can't recognise the
reflection looking back through the mirror, as if some sort of
silent stranger with mean eyes and deadly stare, he sees everything
and why? Then with one last glimmer defiant I'm transformed into a monster a giant,
WITH NO HEART, no limbs,
NO DESIRE. This is not a suicide letter. I just want to get a real close look at death,
touch his matted hair as I pass him by.
You slash my heart on the razor's edge.