What's Left Of Us

I have slit my wrists
In the hope that tearing flesh
Will stop this desire to kill you
If I fall apart it shall be your pieces which I pick up
No surrender or victory
You persist with me yet stand to gain nothing
Your throat I trace with calloused fingers
Excited by fear
I will show you what it means to trust
Let me feel your emotions
And I will stem the flow of blood
If all I can do is see and touch you
Then I will wash your blood from my hands
With the tears you let loose
Wondering if I could feel your family's pain
And taking great care to dispose of what's left of us