Scar

The razor shines, touches the skin and makes the blood flow.
One more, one more little scar.
The pain reaches my body and makes me shiver,
The blood’s bitter taste fills my mouth.
I cut my own skin deeper, I wish you’d do it for me.
I can almost feel your cold fingers on my back, I feel your lips on my neck while you’re holding me gently.
Looking at my pale wrists I see them colourful now,
My crimson blood is begging for freedom.
I feel insecure about letting it drop some more.
Just a little bit more?
One more, one more little scar…