You're empty already, but still bleed more
As you open my veins and drip blood on your floor
You can’t smile; you don't laugh or put on an illusion
You just sit there blood drained, whilst you beg for transfusion.
This here’s your knife; it’s seen plenty of woes
It has travelled through time, helped you battle your foes.
Shall you slit across tracks, so it oozes when bleeds?
Or follow it down and find rest with the weeds?
A sane healthy man will find comfort in ties.
Always knows where to go, to find care, when he cries
Whilst others they yearn for their wish to come true
Whilst they suffer from blood loss, like me or like you.