I bleed,
When I’m cut.
I cry,
When I’m hurt.
Isn’t it humane?
Isn’t it how we tame?
We tame our bodies,
Or emotions and the flaws.

The flames of revenge,
The flames of agony,
And pure pretense.
It’s like everything burns,
It’s the way,
How we get bummed.

We’re pushed backwards to fall,
We’re pulled forward to be among them all.
It’s just a matter of time,
How it flies flittering by.
Oh! I’d wish to cut it’s wings,
So that I could fly,
Be selfish enough to try,
To fail again and try.
I bleed,
When I’m cut.
I cry,
When I’m hurt.