You're Never Here:
There's already blood stains on the floor,
A drop or two won't mean anything more.
This pain will be drugged tonight,
These razor blades feel so right.
Every rose has it's thorn,
Dig it deep, the flesh is torn.
The words draw crimson red,
Veins being emptied of all the things you said.
Distracting burns ward off the pain,
Cutting knives can keep this mind sane.
One more stain on the floor, nothing left to fear.
Blood red words carved out: you're never here.