What if I told you
That every cut I make
Is for every breath you take?
Through the blood colored rain
I show you my pain
But not so I can gain
But to show you my strife
When you make me take those strokes with the knife
This is a gift from me to you
That you have no choice but to choose
So lick up my melancholy
To save me from your folly
Before my shame
Drains all the evidence away.
 
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