• You hold the scalpel against your lips, whispering,
    "Honey, it'll all be worth it in the end."
    It's not as though I have a choice, though.
    You've promised me eternity, promised me my memories.
    But I'm so damn ugly, you want to change me.
    I say, "Make me pretty, make me everything you want me to be."
    But it's all just words; A waste of time and breath.
    You don't 'do' fake, so you pretend my words are real,
    And you run cold metal over my cheek.
    You're such a hypocrite, but you'd die before admitting it.
    My blood runs freely, untainted by drugs that could have saved me.
    Saved you. Saved us from the clouds that have formed in our eyes.
    In our minds. We don't know truth and reality from the fiction.
    So we dance a dangerous dance, breaking into hospital rooms at night.
    We play games that don't teeter on, but fall off the edge of insanity.
    You bind my wrists to a gurney with that familiar silver tape,
    And I laugh. I laugh at how far I've slipped,
    How far I'll go for you. There are no limits now...
    Not that I could stop you if there were.
    Eyes close as you slide the knife along my jawline,
    Down my neck, across my breasts.
    You're blind to my blood since you became immune.
    But, as you watch me, you slide a finger across my cheek.
    Raw red emotions drip from your fingertip, and
    With one second left, I open my eyes, and for the first time, you open yours.
    But I'm gone - you're too late.
    You closed my eyes for me, and with a bloodied finger,
    You smear my unspoken words across my eyelids.