you know, it would just be easier to let it go
the knife purrs with satisfaction, sensing my grimace
it has no lips, but curls vicious words besides, piercing my head
you've been here for so long, boy, wouldn't it be better to be dead?
shut up, but i cannot bring myself to say it, this image
of me lying in the dirt, spouting black blood, stays, down the river styx i row