soft words and sharp blades

I have a confession
and I've run out of apologies
I hope you'll understand
There's no sense
in trying to make sense
of what I refuse to change
I am a man,
molded in clay
my eyes are roving
my heart races
my hands get hot
and my thoughts move with violence
like a storm
It is a heart attack
it is an eruption
I am covered in it
There is no going back
there is no backing down
There is only the impact
and I don't care to see your face
It is enough to know
I have broken us forever
it is enough to know
that violence begets violence
and I am soaked to the skin
in viscera, in hot orgasmic blood
I have cut to the bone
one too many times
My executioner is running late
she brings soft words and sharp blades.