Cut

Cut

This knife, the blade
It can cut so smooth
Watch as it grows close to your arm
It makes contact, blood begins to flow
You watch it run, unable to feel
All pain is gone, you are numb.
You cry one single tear for what caused it
One salty tear runs down your cheek.
It falls on your arm and you watch where it fell.
You smile, blood is a beautiful thing.
Now, what was the trigger?

~Ally