Pa kaj če pišem 2016

Knife Knife

The knife is sharp like a brink of light cutting trough the dark. Cut by cut, the darkness gets tight. The knife is sharp like a brink of light cutting trough the dark. Cut by cut, the darkness gets tight.

The blade slips from point to point across the skin, not really having a reason. Just slips, tears apart all within. To stop it would be treason. The blade slips from point to point across the skin, not really having a reason. Just slips, tears apart all within. To stop it would be treason.

Despite the pain, a feel of delight, hurting, self inflicted suffering, Somehow has a gain. Despite the pain, a feel of delight, hurting, self inflicted suffering, Somehow has a gain.

Every pierce, every rip– Happiness, stinging like a whip. Every pierce, every rip– Happiness, stinging like a whip.

Love the knife is called. The victim is your heart. Love the knife is called. The victim is your heart.

Žan Zrimšek, 4. E Žan Zrimšek, 4. E

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