The Edge of a Razor.

It's the promise or razor blades,
the dreams we've kept hidden away,
and the lives we wish to lead,
the days that passed and the lost time we could have shared.
It's the promise of razor blades that always finds me back here in the dark with these blood stained hands.
These promises are the only thing i've kept true to myself and the razors seem sharper than ever and the cuts they never seem stop.
It's these times when all I needed was just a hand to hold and a heart to call my own and a place to lay my head.
But's it's these razors that I always seem to find, never a heart, never a smile I could hold onto, and a hand to find my own.
These razor blades, these promises i've made, they've cut to deep this time and left a wound to deep to fill myself.