I cut myself to see the red run down my face.

I slit my wrist just to feel the pain.

They say life is pain so am I real?

Numbnes spills out of me as I leave reality.

I can see a mirror with reality on the other side.

Reaching out, my hand hits glass.

Am I denied?

The other me laughs at the unreal fool.

Have I already died?

Sorrow grips me and I shatter the illusion.

I take the glass and cut myself to see the red run down my face.

I slit my wrist just to feel the pain.

This time the I can feel the pain but it's too late.

Dying is a part of reality.

I can see a mirror with my life on the other side.

The other my cries for the dead fool.

Is there no chance for life?

Sorrow grips me because this isn't an illusion.