Pride, Sliced With a Box Cutter
I vividly remember the pools of blood on the floor
the soul, once mine, standing in the door
the Pain, the scars, the blood falling drip by drip
my teeth carving their way into my bottom lip
the razor to my vanity
unleashing my insanity
my pride, once strong, diminishing in the blink of an eye
my pride, now gone, weeping as it waved goodbye
the floor, the walls, the bed drenched in crimson red
10:43, the time my ego's pronounced dead
crying, yearning for salvation
being clenched tightly in the arms of desolation
stains of blood repeating in my mind
the vision of my arrogance leaving me behind
my pride, once a god, a messiah with no stutter
slicing itself with the edge of a box cutter
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