Perfected

I've cut myself to watch it bleed,
to punish myself for my deeds.
All I want is to escape myself,
to put my mind back on its shelf,
to go back to what once was pure,
escape my thoughts, so insecure.
Here I sit, sad and alone,
peeling my flesh off the bone.
Reclaim my unholy Father in Hell;
locked no more in this empty shell.
I must hang up on life
for death is calling my name.
All I have left is this knife,
the final piece to end this game.
I turn away without looking back,
waiting for the world to turn black,
to close the curtain on this stage,
to let me out of reality's cage.
A slice so small, minute, petite,
Yet it sweeps me off my feet,
carries me right through the gates
to where my final calling waits.
Free at last from all that's fake;
I'm finally truly awake
to see myself for the first time.
The blade cut right through life's cruel grime.
I am saved, I am perfected;
no longer is my mind infected
with the lies they fed to me.
I am myself.
I am free.