tja, ik heb het eigenlijk niet zo op die gedichten over snijden en bloed en de hele zooi, maar heb er toch nog 1 geschreven...
When his voice is raised
My blood starts to boil
It’s running through my veins
And wants to come out
I won’t let it go,
‘cause I know the scars won’t weaken
His voice will
So I just have to wait
Till his voice fades away
And drags along my blood
If he won’t die on his own
I’ll be kind enough to help him
[edit]"‘cause I know the scars won’t fade" wordt "‘cause I know the scars won’t weaken"[/edit]