V-I: Silver Pens and Paper Skin

There's a pen in my hand but that pen's not a pen
That pen is a blade and the paper's my skin
There's no do overs with pen's, what you write stays within
The paper absorbs the ink.
But that ink isn't ink it's the tip of a blade
My paper consumes it, it consumes it, my skin
There's no way to undo what you do with a pen
You can't rub it out
And you'll do it again
You'll do it again and again and again and again
Until all the papers been marked with the pen
That pen that draws silver, but only brings red
That pen that's a blade, that paper that's skin.