Breathing ragged, lungs burning
Palms sweaty, slipping, slipping
Eyes clouded with tears
I'm faced with my fears

The face in the mirror
Pale with pure horror
Hands gripping the sink
I can barely think

The calling of a blade–
Will it ever fade ?
I try to fight it, try–try–try
Yet the blade screams, die–die–die

Such a strong temptation
A path to damnation
I grip the sink tighter
My knuckles turning whiter

The blade keeps mocking
With its sardonic laughing
I sink to my knees
And whisper–please

Bone tired of fighting
Of always trying
I succumb to the gore
And hate myself even more