With the blade, I climb slowly up my forearm
Then a cut, small and shallow,
and the world blooms around me
Pain keens all my senses,
every fiber is tuned,
And I hear my body sing
when the pain takes the burden from me
Deeper, a little deeper
I cut into the white arm.
From the wound, dark blood
seeps silently and I become warm.
The blood so red, the blood so pure,
Time does not heal my wounds,
To see my blood is wonderful
To see my blood comforts me
Happiness surges through my whole body,
Pain drives every hurt out,
To feel this way, I put up with the sorrow.
The blood so red, the blood so pure...
I only injure the surface.
Everything that lies underneath
I have locked away deep inside,
so that it eludes me.
The blood so red, the blood so pure...