My idiot self..

One, two, three, four.
No, that will simply not do.
Five, six, seven, eight.
Still does not suffice.

With eight more,
I cut through.
Wishing i didn't have to bleed for you.
But my arms are plauged with your existance..

I swear you are death himself,
So twisted you aim to break..
And me you have,
My heart you had...