Cut the Flesh

My razors are trained to mark a surface

Every time

I fall it forces me to punish my skin

Remorse has proved to be a sadist

And I don't care at all if people see the shape

I am in Day by

Day another conflict causes to cut the flesh

And if these wounds fail to show the truth

I got to cut even deeper

The scars are true art of expression

Signs of tragedy

With no doubt sick -but keeping alive

My way to let out all aggression

A different therapy

Possible with the blade of a knife

But I can't find my soul . . .