Shiny surgical steel honed to the perfection of a razor's edge
Severing veins and tendons below the track marks
Then falling to the cold hard tiles of the bathroom floor
Cold and hard ... like living on
The source of this end to a means
Lies reflecting all that blood
And brand new sunlight that God keeps throwing
Into your cocaine eye
At 6:00 in the morning on a sunny summer Sunday
The beauty of this day just making you seem so much
Uglier
Than you really are
Look at your bloody wrist
Through the haze of
Rage tears
Hurt tears
Hate-the-self tears
In your eyes
And ask yourself...
NO -- not why --
NEVER why...
You ask yourself if you should have tried your neck
This is taking far
Too
F-u-c-k-i-n-g
Long
And so few stories ... that are true ... have happy endings
