The Cutting Game

sometimes this is all that helps

destructive little dances
morbid little games
the games that i play everyday
a macabre ballet
with a straight edge razor
painting pictures with the blood
payment for my mistakes
this horrid painful twisted game
the game that i will lose someday
they say its wrong
there's no other way
to make myself feel somewhat okay
another re-match of this game
this game that i will always play
the razor's edge
is what i crave
the blood, the pain, the agony
the only thing that's good for me
little cuts, little scrapes
turn to bigger gashes that gape
like the mouths of a thousand
screaming souls
i look at them
i don't feel alone
every day is still the same
as i play my bloody cutting game
the game that i will lose someday