Those Scars Make Her Real

Grab your slickest, sharpest knife
Find your dark place that the demons hang around
Take your own life
In your own blood you'll drown

I can see the pain in your wrists
The desperation in your eyes
You must be so pissed
As the others say their half hearted goodbyes
While you meet your demise

Just know that you're my prize

Those scars make you real to me

Just count to three

Then we'll flee

Breaking free of the billowing debris