a weaker beginning, but you’re just starting
that’s the charm, as searing pain is settling
is that all you can take? is that all you can take?
how much, how much more can you make?
easy, over, and out, it’s like riding a bike now
it’s all a distant, tranquilising blur somehow
you have reached your own personal record
and went past it; dare you break the accord?
it’s a complete mess of blood and medicine
too numb to give a fuck, you ceased caring
your arm’s as pale as your cotton blanket
maybe you’ve crossed the line, but screw it
so indulged, and you just can’t fucking stop
because you know it will never be enough
for it’s not really the quantity that matters
but just how fucking far you dare to go deeper.
fifty-one cuts and counting…