Was it my demon or muse
that caused me to drag the knife down my arm ???

was it my utter sense of failure
and heart break at trusting again

nothing making sense
the voices in my head screaming at me

blood gushing down my arm
on to the floor like CRIMSON RAIN

watching my the dark red puddle grow around me
the upheavel of  my lunch on to the floor
 
slumping to the floor now
I grab a near by cloth

I cut to drown the voices in my head
I cut to feel alive
the closer to death the more alive I feel

dancing along the knifes edge
my inspiration is feeling pain
my voices in my head telling me to do it all again
it is sadly my life