I sat there and realized what I created, a monster. I could have stopped it, could of done something different. They say the past is the past, but my past haunts me, this might sound a little crazy, but sometimes, it controls me. I tried to get away, close my eyes, and let my dreams take life's place. But in this twisted dream me and the blade are friends, skipping down the street holding hands. My bones poking from my skin, knowing that I still binge. No lust, that I'm feeding, no heart, but I'm breathing. No food, but I'm living, less and less blood, but still standing. I need help, I need to stop, stop the urge to bleed, the urge to heave, On my hands, and on my knees, i will plead, on my honesty, i will not let my integrity get the best of me, I need to show my insanity, let others know I have a problem, let them see the real me. I'll beg and beg, just help me, please! I'll stay away, abstain from it all. I know I promised, but one cut won't hurt, one heave won't make me burst, I'll just do it one more time, that would be it, then I'll be done forever, I promise. Talk is cheap, actions are louder than words, I swear to the lord, I swear i'll prove it to you all. But excuse me please, the blade is calling my name, it's time to bleed, and the toilette is begging me to heave.