Under the Knife 2 ...

Let it rain ... let it cleanse you of the blood that you spilt out of you. Snaking down your arm towards the blade you held so dearly. You start to lose grip of reality, of what being loved felt like. What warmth was. With each mark, you get to know it better. With each stroke you get closer. Sooner or later you felt the warmth of your life ... channeling down and into your hand  connecting with the blade, mistaking it for the warmth of love as you become transfixed with it.