sometimes I put a knife to my throat to test myself, every time I do that I'm an inch from death. a quick movement and i'm gone. prepare to evacuate soul. could I do anything? would I? that's not the point. sometimes it's nice to feel the coldness of steel against our flesh. maybe that's how cold you are in death. if i took my life right now, would i be that cold? watching my life drain from my body, sanguine splendor staining my sheets. prepare to evacuate soul.