Being Able to Feel Nothing

my blood, my flesh, my veins
play with me
my bones, my beast
play with me

there's a starving beast inside my chest
playing with me until he's bored
then slowly burying his tusks in my flesh
crawling his way out, he rips open old wounds

when I reach for the knife placed on the bedside table
its blade reflects my determined face
to plant it in my chest
and carve a hole so deep it snaps my veins
hollow me ouy, I want to feel empty

where I could see my master's thorns
I'd start peeling the skin off his cheeks and
scratch his eyes until he could no longer see
the blood stains dripping on the white sheets of my bed
the stains I will never manage to remove

dripping all over the floor, I would drag myself outside
as I open the front door the sun captures my weary face
as the weight comes off, when I let go
it's so strange, being able to feel nothing