emotionless, I take the blade
and drag it along my flesh,
my expression never changing-
emotionless.
I feel no pain, b/c I'm way too numb
numb from an overload of pain
and from an overload of disappointment
thrown at me,
no one understands.
so I've been a little down lately?
a little too down. . .
and I dunno what's wrong.
why exactly did I cut myself?
I think I wanted to see if I could still bleed
bleed real blood
true human blood
none of that fake shit, like the
rest of my life has been.
all fake, everything, every aspect
is a made up figment of my imagination
a way for me to pretend to be real
a way to cover up that I'm not ok
a way to hide that I'm just scared
scared of not being able to bleed real blood.

I get so sick of people askin' what's wrong with me. Why the hell do they care anyway? We are extreme no longer. My brother, he changed that when he started chasin' skirts. What does that have to do with bein' extreme, ya might ask. Well, that's when he stopped sleepin' with me. Yeah, how much more extreme can ya get? He said he still loved me, more 'n anything else in the world, and for some reason, I believe him. But he says he wants more, he wants someone he can walk down the street with, holdin' hands and lettin' the world know that he loves 'em, and we can't do that. So, I know he's right, but that don't mean I gotta like it. I love him. I love him more than it should be possible to love someone. One time, I was kiddin' around and I said that I loved him so much it should be against the law, and he looked at me with these sad eyes and said, "It is."

Those two words hit me like a ton of bricks. That's when I realized that he wasn't happy. I tried to do everything I could to make him that way, but I guess it wasn't enough. I started bein' real quiet and stopped wantin' to go out. But that never stopped him. He'd get all dressed up and go out, doin' God knows what, and I'd sit in the hotel room and watch TV, write in my journal, whatever it took to get me through the night. Then, one night I decided to go out myself. I was in the bathroom, getting ready to shave, and I watched as the lights glinted off that shiny steel blade in my hand. I wondered what it would feel like, to feel it slicin' through the skin, watchin' the blood rise to the surface.

Our lives had become so complacent, so predictable. Show up at the arena, get our asses kicked, shower, head to the hotel, and start all over the next day. Blah blah blah. This had been our dream, and we had been livin' it for so long. Never thought the dream would turn into a nightmare - a nightmare of boredom and loneliness. Hell, we're the Hardy Boyz - Team Extreme. We're the craziest motherfuckers in the business, right?

That would explain why I stood there in the bathroom of some freakin' Holiday Inn and carved a real pretty heart in my arm with the tip of that razor. Wasn't that big, probly the size of a quarter, but it was real…and it was red…and it bled. My blood - our blood. Our bond. That was the night he came back and told me he was in love with someone else, that we couldn't be together any more. I asked him when it became his duty to decide what WE did with our lives. I asked if I had any say in the matter. He just shook his head, took his stuff, and left me alone.

Alone, with my pretty heart on my forearm, and a nice, sharp razor in the bathroom. I added our initials to the heart. That took a bit of work, since it was so small to begin with, but I managed. And I bled again. And I liked it. For in that brief moment, the pain in my heart was overshadowed by something else. Something extreme. That's what all this is about, right?

So, we went on with our lives. He was happy, happier than I had seen him in a long time. And after awhile, I started to be happy for him, cuz that's all I ever wanted. And if I couldn't make him happy, then I was glad he found someone who could. There would be times that we would look at each other and I knew he wanted me, much as I wanted him. But it never happened again. One night I was in the shower, long after he had left, and I was lookin' at my blade, wondering where I could make my new mark. The door opened and I thought it was him - that he had forgotten something.

That's how Sean found out what I was doing, and he didn't even try to stop me, just stood there till I was done, then asked me a buncha questions about why I was doin' it, if it hurt, stuff like that. I told him I did it so I could feel. He told me he wanted to help, to show me that I didn't need to hurt myself to feel something. Then he kissed me. That was cool, cuz it felt real good, and for once I forgot about the pain. He does that a lot now. Makes me forget the pain, I mean. Sean's good at that. He's good at a lot of things.

Which brings us to now. My brother and me, we decided that we need to get back to what we used to be. Extreme. So, I'm standin' here behind the curtain, waitin' for my music to hit, death grip on the mic and the ladder I plan on usin' upside Taker's head. I watch as Raven leads Jeff to the other side, so he can sneak out through the crowd and try to attack from behind. I can deal with him now. Raven, that is. Liked the kilt much better, but I guess that black skirt looks alright on him. Only Raven could pull that look off, ya know.

I feel Sean's hand on my back and I turn to him. He grabs my arm and I wince slightly, the new heart I carved there yesterday still fresh, still raw. It bled a lot, specially when I carved his initials in it. He smiles at me, givin' me the strength and encouragement I need, lettin' me know that it's real. He's real, I'm real, love is real. And it's mine. Jeff's outta the curtain, lurkin' about in the crowd and I hear Taker callin' him out. I hear my cue and Sean gives me a peck on the cheek before I walk out onto the ramp. The music hits, the crowd goes wild, and I'm standin' there, the blacklights glowin' around me, and I know. This is extreme. Real extreme.