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Description
The floor is cold against my legs
As I recount my number.

There is a thing inside of me.

A virus, a monster.

I can feel it when I'm angry; writhing, thrashing inside of me.

I can feel it when I'm sad; slowly eating away at my sanity.

I can even feel it when I'm happy; coiled up inside of me, waiting for a chance to strike.

I look down, staring at the pool of blood beneath my outstretched arm.

What is this creature I've turned in to? Maybe I shouldn't do this anymore.

Maybe I should stop.

But try as I might, I can't.

I just can't.

The red volcano in my arm that spews out dark red lava is so beautiful.

The blood-stained knife in my hand is so breathtaking.

The deep crimson of the blood is so enticing.

I should stop; I try. But I can't.

I just can't.

Because no one can save me.

I've turned into a beast, a psychotic one.

And no one can save me from what I've become.

No one.

Description
The floor is cold against my legs
As I recount my number.

There is a thing inside of me.

A virus, a monster.

I can feel it when I'm angry; writhing, thrashing inside of me.

I can feel it when I'm sad; slowly eating away at my sanity.

I can even feel it when I'm happy; coiled up inside of me, waiting for a chance to strike.

I look down, staring at the pool of blood beneath my outstretched arm.

What is this creature I've turned in to? Maybe I shouldn't do this anymore.

Maybe I should stop.

But try as I might, I can't.

I just can't.

The red volcano in my arm that spews out dark red lava is so beautiful.

The blood-stained knife in my hand is so breathtaking.

The deep crimson of the blood is so enticing.

I should stop; I try. But I can't.

I just can't.

Because no one can save me.

I've turned into a beast, a psychotic one.

And no one can save me from what I've become.

No one.