One of those times where the reality of the situation is a one-armed scissor.

Seeing you faintly before you fade again,
Repeat when the armor is down and off.
Who knew exposed and underneath
the belly was weak and soft?
Judging by the rain and how it wears away,
I'd hit the reset, but this is no game.
The truth; it plagues me day by night.
My foundation starts to sway.

Enter unmerciful,
one-armed scissor.
Your cuts are not clean,
they are jagged and mean.

Your cuts are not clean but are jagged and mean,
Enter unmerciful one armed scissor.
Like veins that nearly burst with crave,
Fault lines fuse and will fissure.