I’ve already become the person I’ve always wanted to be.
I’m driven by a cause, not for applause.
I’ve lived my life to express, not to impress.
I’ve put myself on a rocky path, and have become hypersensitive to action.
But along the way I think I lost my sensitivity to blood.
Every time you bleed I feel like I’m bleeding in a different color.
Sometimes I feel like I need to take a sip to bleed red.
I feel the need to listen to music to open my wounds.
But in the back of my mind I know
They might just be artificial wounds I’m cutting with this poison.
Because after these hours phase, I’m desperately trying to keep these wounds pulled open.
Before they stitch themselves back up and trap this blood inside my skin.
Sometimes it frightens me to think I need to cloak my self behind a Veil to be human.
I remember before, I wished to feel the happiness without the burn.
But this past week I wanted it to burn
So that I could bleed with you.