Being Able to Feel Nothing

my blood, my flesh, my veins
 play with me
 my bones, my beast
 play with me
 there's a starving beast inside my chest
 playing with me until he's bored
 then slowly burying his tusks in my flesh
 crawling his way out, he rips open old wounds
 when I reach for the knife placed on the bedside table
 its blade reflects my determined face
 to plant it in my chest
 and carve a hole so deep it snaps my veins
 hollow me ouy, I want to feel empty
 where I could see my master's thorns
 I'd start peeling the skin off his cheeks and
 scratch his eyes until he could no longer see
 the blood stains dripping on the white sheets of my bed
 the stains I will never manage to remove
 dripping all over the floor, I would drag myself outside
 as I open the front door the sun captures my weary face
 as the weight comes off, when I let go
 it's so strange, being able to feel nothing