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If you could see me now,
With blood on my face,
Laughing at the tears in my eyes,
Would you give me your hand?
Honestly tell me you would still be here
If you could see the real me.

I have a confession to make,
I don't expect you to understand,
I'm a blood addict, the knife calls me,
I need the release,
Even when I'm not in pain,
The cool blade on my skin,
Slicing through the shell is impossible to deny.

The first time seems so far away,
Before I pressed the razor to my wrist,
I was drowning in myself,
Waiting for death to save me,
The ache was endless.
I tried to find something real inside of me,
All I found was the life I wasn't living
Trickling out of the cuts on my body,
It was disturbingly beautiful,
The blade stole a piece of my pain
And I didn't have to deal with it anymore.
I cut again, until I couldn't stop,
I became addicted to the knife,
Anything sharp found its way to my veins
And drained me of life.

Better than cigarettes,
Cutting turns the world upside down,
I don't tread on the ground
But it's never enough,
I cut deeper,
Carve my troubles away,
Every inch of my skin has known the knife,
All blood must be spilled.