Cut Hands Has The Solution

Hey, knuckle-nicks

I'll tell you:

It's helping

I'll tell you:

You're doing the right thing

I can see you're used

And I don't know where you've been

But I do know past failures still haunt you

Thoughtless slow remarks you later regret

It's hard to own up and take the blame

For being a nervous gibbering wreck

So go on be a careless fucking onlooker

So you can sit and not-think about pain

I know about gasping attacks and mirror-blood

I know about shitbags and shame

I know a fuckload more than you realise

A fuck of a lot more than you think

I know why you can take a kiss

But not a bone-count hug

I know you bite your fat banana fingernails

And I know why you'd need to shave

I know you're a slow fussy pathetic eater

And I know you don't sleep much

But I'll still tell you:

It's helping

And I'll still tell you:

You're doing the right thing

Question: did you ever hurt yourself to make somebody sorry?

How often do you pretend to be sick?

You ever wanted something very much but never told anybody about it?

Are you such a slug you can't live without a fucking sundae?

You ever made a bit too much fuss over your cuts?

Yes, the cutting will be quite dramatic

If you get the crisscross slit right

And show an exposed piece of bone

Ready for harvest

And in a few seconds' time:

In a drop of anal red the poison

And your totally disgusting diseased unkempt disgusting excuse of a body

Continues to react

Till mere days after the cutting

The cancer says well hello

In between fairground muscle twitches

And clearly white scaly shit

Tinkerboy says burnt it out

The little cunt doesn't know what the fuck he's talking about

And just weeks after the cutting

You really don't know

How well can you imagine

How soon cheap tears are forgotten

Because there's no wasted kleenex or sympathy

Nobody would give a fucking toss

For a quasi-glamour of your symptoms

For your Russellâ¬"s sign

And for your atrocious sleepless lucidity

Because what if they were provoked?

It's prefectness and it's all there

No more pointless trawling through self-helped books for triggering examples

No more daytime trash or drunken wisdom

At first it seems not to be working

Til you get that imitation of danger

That means you can no longer convince yourself it's not working

More and more and more

So right now would be a good time for blackmail

Who have you ever tried to make guilty?

Have you ever told on anyone?

What somebody has told you not to tell

My question: I said have you ever told on anyone?

Yet I'll tell you:

It's helping

And I'll tell you:

You're doing the right thing

More and more you wonder if anyone really gives a fuck

Do you sometimes feel that:

You talk too much

You don't listen enough

Do you admit to letting others push you around?

Who's pushing you around now?

Who's hitting on you now?

Who's the pervert hitting on you now, kuckle-nicks?

Has he successfully perverted an ethic?

Has he destroyed a doll body?

I'll show you what's it like not to have hands

And I'll show you how to hold on tight

I'll show you how to piss on your own bedclothes

And sit in a closet

You'll learn to sweat while unconscious

And I'll show you the electric stick

You'll learn about the kitty-cut

Before the privilege of seeing your own blood

I'll let you suck brown-brown and clairil

So you know how papa's so brave

I'll show you the wide-awake nightmare

And now you can buy some fucking fear

So new question: can you:

Spot a person who's like me?

Can you:

Imagine a difference between their body and yours?

Can you:

Imagine a person who looks like me?

Could you:

Spot a person who looks unlike you?

Can you:

Spot a person who's how you want to be?

Can you:

Imagine a person who you'd never want to be?

Transferring people is a fucking degrading thing to do to them

And one day the you'll understand that

One day the you'll understand that:

Cut hands has the solution

We'll feed you to every hungry bird

We'll feed you to every starving animal

And we'll let them eat fat till they're full

And will let them drink blood till they're drunk

As I tell you:

It's helping

While I tell you:

You're doing the right thing