Reminding me what passion was like,
Each drop returning that familiar pain
That the pale body so sorely needed.
I cut myself the other day
Just to be able to feel again.
I had forgotten that sweet feeling
Numbed by this sterile world.
I took a giant leap down
From the lofty height of my balcony
Just to see if I had learned to fly yet
Only to meet failure, that prisoner of war.
Cut and broken, but alive again,
I'll let these wounds heal themselves
Until the numbness has returned
And then I'll cut and fly again.