The point of the pen cuts deeper than the blade
It leaves its mark, on my skin, the page
Finger print lines, lies on those lips
It drips

Ink glistens, follows veins
A sick beat trailing after your blood
Drip Drop, the sounds of ink
(blood)
Telling your story
Drip Drop
This blood was all in vain
(vein)
Cut yourself open
Tell me a story