The Pocket Knife
My knife lays hidden
In my room
Coated in my dry blood
When the day's been cruel
My knife waits
To be covered in fresh blood
When I finish
My knife keeps the blood
Hoards it, like a brutal reminder
My knife knows
That blood is what I'm after
It never fails to satisfy me
I wish I could communicate
With my knife
I would thank it for the blood
I cannot cry real tears anymore
But I can bleed
Thank you knife, blood is better
In my room
Coated in my dry blood
When the day's been cruel
My knife waits
To be covered in fresh blood
When I finish
My knife keeps the blood
Hoards it, like a brutal reminder
My knife knows
That blood is what I'm after
It never fails to satisfy me
I wish I could communicate
With my knife
I would thank it for the blood
I cannot cry real tears anymore
But I can bleed
Thank you knife, blood is better