Perjury.

Flesh
Flesh
How fluid
It comes in waves
In rivers and swathes
I've developed
A talent

Not just for my own
I tear my flesh
Yes
Left to my own devices
I'd fall to my vices
And beat myself bloody
Scratch myself raw

I'll tear the flesh
No
That's just for me
The reality
Is that their flesh comes in waves
I would but wade
But they would not wane

I require something higher
In the armory
The perjury