The warm trickle down my arm,
As I feel it fall into my palm.
From one sweet slash I explode with red,
Watching my blood cover the bed.

With every slit my life is fading,
In a pool of misery I am wading.
I make the third to represent me,
The painful hope that cannot be.

My life’s a mess many reasons why,
The only good thing is when I die.
I am aching no need to pretend,
But I feel now it all has to end.

Engraving again to make it the last,
As it draws from me so does my past.
You don’t care so why should I?
With this knife I say goodbye.
 
Copyright © evilone, All Rights Reserved