My blood a long silk ribbon tied by dread,

warm thick and red.

  It stains my wrists and hands,

making pretty crimson bands.

  Silver flashes through the dark,

its edge leaving a deep new mark.

  The moonlight catches white pale lines,

memories of an older pained time.

  Soft and warm the flesh bright in the soft moonlight,

each new cut a battle deep inside that I fight.

  Rubies fall to the floor,

small casualties of a inner war.

  The blade promises  no more pain,

once  roaring fire of love jus now a flame.

  Quiet sobs fill he stil air,

tears falling telling of a life unfair.

   Remorsing over he pain,

she wishes she was bave enough to cut a vain.

   She wants nothing more than to leave this place,

but a memory of love and a swet face.

    She drops her blade tears renewed,

she remmbers now a warm embrace.

     Love soon flows lighting up her face,

a soft smile lifts her lips,

ones he had onced kissed.