The blood flows down my chest fresh
From the cuts I have placed above my heart
As I look in the mirror I finally see the truth
The reflection does not lie
Scars without finally match the scars within
And the muse beckons me gently

I bleed and feel the sweet pain
The blood is finally real
I realize the despair of life
And the muse beckons me gently
To lie down in the tub
To bathe in warm warm blood
To watch it flow from me
To feel the sweet silence take me
To hasten the inevitable

I recognize the hoplessness of life
And the muse beckons me gently

I recognize her

And I turn away

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