---

Triggering my disorder
Perhaps just a childish game,
a randomly placed note on my score.

The crying child is now breathless,
but my purity still needs to be preserved.
A raincoat, a black hat and it will all be gone.

Our account of the truth
is just a well-crafted lie
that I want to believe.

Blood, knife, mirror,
My own vision leading me
far away from reality.

Blood, knife, mirror,
a pastiche of faces
keeping my affliction hidden.

Blood, knife, mirror,
you shall see your own reflection
in the deep red blood in my veins
and you shall be horrified.
Blood, knife, mirror.

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