I know you better than you know yourself.

I know why you think the way you do,

I know what makes you tick.

You would not believe the truth.

Ask me, when there is nothing left.

Come to me and I will help you draw the blade against your wrists.

Watch the smoke and the black blood pour.

Then morning will come and the birds will sing again.

If you hope, I will cradle your head in my arms

And nurse you through the darkest hour.

When you finally smile the broken, tattered gaze of deathly sorrow,

Ask me for refreshing, cool water as you toil to health and trust.

Knowledge is safety, and you can only know one

Whom you have watched die and resurrect with your own eyes.

But for now, do not avoid the knife that will slice you to shreds.

Welcome it. Draw it closer.

Go ahead. Make my day.