Just another shitty day of pure monotony
A broken, corporate cog, frozen in position
Forgotten long ago the reason for his presence
Wasting away inside a three-walled, corner prison

One day a simple swipe upon a wrinkled knuckle
A quick recoil as the flameless burn sets in
Though agony would seem the obvious reaction
Instead he feels alive again

An idea forms, though seemingly forbidden
Resistance lasts a moment, but is soon lost

The ecstasy of pain, drawn from his A4 savior
If only he can force his resistant hand

He brings the clean, white sheet to his tender eyelid
At first a wasted effort; damage none, no high
Resistant but persistent, as single, slim incision
Exhilaration from the agony of one gash

The high is brief, the stinging fades, the cravings dominating
The minutes come and go, but quickly he grows tired
Like a surgeon, skilled, he slices fast, this side and that
An upper lip now separated, nothing left intact

With every cut, the euphoria surges
The wounds seem to fill him with life

His crosshatched features, losing definition
From the red-stained, stationery knife

A bloodied mess of narrow slices
Each one rejuvenates, he feels reborn

Vision fading, the blood loss overwhelms
A smile of gashes as he slips from consciousness

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