writhing on the floor in pain   its myself that i maim   creating patterns in flesh with razor blades   as i peel each section of life away      pick away at every ounce of skin   until every thing is withered and dead inside   way too much time locked within my mind   allows me time to over-analyze everything to shit      i'm so alone, engulfed in these flames   i can't find a way out from this hell, where i'm enslaved   every waking minute becomes my dying hour   as my bleeding heart drips to the floor      can you feel my tears?   can you taste my blood?