Shredded Curtains:

Beneath a cold steel moon, blood drips like wax from several deep wounds. Self-indulgence in a bladed caress, licking my lips as I reminisce. Pressed against my skin I slice, cutting back the curtain revealing my pain. A liquid flow I know too well, masochism pervades. Broken mirrors reflect only sadder days, when reflections crack beneath my scattered gaze. Remember when the ones who took me in broke a vow, abused with care beneath a shadowed grin? Of course you don't, the truth was bent. Woven to shape a narrative when clock hands spin. Now within the mirror cracks, a shimmer of a bloodstained pact. Sitting in a pool of blood, shaking, and flashing back. Can I truly live in a world devoid of love? Embrace my demons, a Faustian slip. A resignation to the knife I grip. Just another drowning pool, crimson red isn't it? Like the mind that bled, almost drowned by malicious intent. Head under water breath almost spent. Before the age of four, is this my life's rent? Go on and grab a shovel, make a dent. Just another hit, thunk to the head. Another memory flooding back, masochism fed. ~Zyhrenẞøng~