Cuts Go Deep

The cuts go deep,
dreams, deeper still.
It's what she wanted,
and I can never say no.
She is the pain,
the stinging sensation,
that wells in my wrist,
and shoots to my brain.
She is the blood red, glistening, gleaming
Slick on stretched fingers,
dripping below.
She is the voice that fills me to overflowing,
Reverberating loudly inside my hollows.
Sharp and to the point, dangerous!
But I can't resist.
A way in the dark,
a map to the maze.
Her light, promising, kiss in the cold.
What more could I want?
She is the answer I need,
when I fall to my knees,
and bleed.