The clinking of beers
The burn down my throat
And the feeling of numb
Every night I have a beer in my hand
Every night I drink and make myself feel nothing
Feeling nothing is better
It's better this way
That's what I tell myself
But every morning the feelings come back
And so I try a new way
Taking a blade to my skin and slide it across
It stings a bit, but feels strangely nice
Refreshing
More cuts in a row
Blood flowing down
It looks so pretty and dark and shiny
The feelings are leaving
They leave with my blood
But they will come back
These feelings I feel
The feeling of pain and guilt
The feeling of love that will never be returned
The feeling of a maybe
That maybe it could have been
Different?
