The First is Not the Last

The First Cut can NEVER be the LAST

My face is wet from salty tears

Partners to the silent screams no one hears

The tiled floor is wet as well

Soaked with blood as red as hell

Shiny metal lies by my side

The very sight of it makes me want to run and hide

The pain seeps though my deformed flesh

Pleasure and pain now to mesh

Yet even as the pain descends

My flesh mends

That which I have scarred

My heart, long abandoned, now grows hard

Even now, years having long past

The memory of the first cut, cannot away, be cast

My bad decisions now wash over me

They are like, to my mind, a key

Keys, they each open me, in part

Showing the darkest regions of my heart

Full of cobwebs and creatures of the dark

Looking back, each scar is a mark

Of each thing I did wrong

Of each turn in the road I took that was wrong...

 

Written by BloodyWire

Author's Note

Do you Belive Me?