Darkness

Darkness, darkness, everywhere, yet not a drop to drink.
I watch as my blood spirals down the kitchen sink.
Sorrow, sorrow, everywhere, yet not a drop of dread.
To feel the feelings that so long have lone been in my head.
The dull, the jagged, and the rough.
These are cuts I love so much.
They rip, they tear, they never sting.
Seeing scissors, my stomach sings.
One day I’ll go too deep, trying to find a friend.
Yet knowing he is only found feeling feelings in my head.