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Pain
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My very favorites Its a sad shamefull excistence that I live
A tourtered soul
Trapped inside of me
Always looking for a way of escape
But never finding any
I look to so many different objects
To make my life better
I have tried almost everything
And nothing ever seems to work
My mind is in a constant battle; with my concience
I've had the knife
The glinting silver blade
Sinking deep within my soft pale skin
Bright chrimson blood
Slowly showing at the vein
Further and further
With every pull comes more
And more yet would
If not for my concience
Guilt settles in and I stop
Pulling the knife away
Wipping the blade with a cloth
Red on White
Like rose petals on snow
Its a beautiful sight to my eyes
Putting the knife away
Its hard to do
Because addiction
Is the very best kind of pain
