my happiness your sorrow

Happiness is the blade in my hand,

The cuts on my wrist

The pain most can not stand.

Happiness is the sight of freash blood,

Flowing from wounds,

Tears creating a flood.

Creating a masterpiece,

On my wrist,

The beautiful artwork that most have missed.

Why does my sorrow torment me so,

Why does it create happiness,

And when will it go?

I need to stop cutting,

I really do,

Instead I shall turn my thoughts to you.

You are my muse,

My most poetic friend

And I know that you can help me find the end.

You can help me stop cutting,

We can discuss what you will,

All of your work provides me a thrill.

Can you help me?

Oh I hope that you can

Although meeting you was never in my plan.

You are me

And I am you

So together there is nothing we can't do.