Sacrifice My Soul
I carve the curved blade into my flesh,
Twisting it deeper,
Over and over again
Bearing bleeding wounds,
I shamble on
Wearing a facade of normalcy,
Acting as if nothing bothers me
I do it all
Too wrapped up in your own little world,
You don't realize
What I go through
All to stay strong
Never do you see
The aged, scabbed scars
It's nothing more
Than a fleeting fever dream
Why do I do this
Carved with the sharpest blade into the soft flesh of my soul.
The scars on the outside heal
But the sixty bright red lines will never.
Each time feels like the first
A fresh wound dig into my confidence,
My sanity, my being.
Sixty bright lines,
One for each time you took my freedom.
Sixty lines that will never stop releasing their fountain of blood
Sixty lines of pure agony
Carved with the knife of betrayal.
Sixty scars that will never fade,
Of pure torture
That will never heal.
Each time I pick you up,
You cut another part of my soul up
Sixty times, and I never seem to learn.