transprodigalson

Cut, Cut, Cut

Maybe if I cut my throat, 

All the words will come out-

Like an unclogged sink; 

Flowing smooth and free. 

 

Maybe if I cut my wrists, 

All the violence will leave-

Running out like a waterfall; 

Fast and Dangerous. 

 

Maybe if I cut my chest,

It\'ll take away my feelings-

Like pulling ice from the freezer;

Cold and numbing. 

 

Maybe if I cut into my body, 

Then my soul will finally leave- 

Like a dog off their leash; 

Free and never looking back.

 

Maybe if I just cut, 

Somebody will love me-

Loving blind like children; 

So naive and filled with hope.