Death and I meet

I'm getting dizzy,
Too dizzy to stand.
Because, this cycle keeps going,
And it doesn't seem to end.

I'm getting angry and the stress grows,
How do I lose the strife?
...Nothing but drugs....
And a sharp knife.

The sensation of hot oil
Running down my core,
Creating stains of red
It continues to pour.

What is to become of my sole,
Once my sin is complete?
I wonder if I'll Dream,
...As Death and I meet.