with a clean steel slice i craft gouges on fragile skin branding on myself identity that pain turns into reality
i free my senses from dullness inflicted by my emotional wounds the pain inside, mounting by day finds an exterior outlet at last
I must admit to being tempted to use ‘at last outward finds a way’ as the final line, just to make it rhyme. But I'm a grammar freak (most of the time) in my own writing, and I will not botch it thus.