The first cut is the deepest as a drop sits like dew
A prick felt the slightest, the tip began to glide through
Creating a curve that flows up and round down
The memory of her smile, invades my mind
Running blade splitting flesh, opens wide
A rush to my head, the pain is a high
I can smell her as if she were here, now
Cutting and cutting the distraction bows

The sorrow occupies
My heart beats slower
I perspire

Heat envelopes, the room turns in a ring
From the pit it churns with a nauseating spin
All I can do is think of you
Except when a blade runs true
Tracing a tattooed scar
Of my broken heart
That will never mend
The end