Quickened Pace

Alone inside my shadows,
with fear of quickened pace,
my bloody tears are falling,
seeping from a broken face.

Slowly I lose control,
the blade becomes my possession,
thoughts are lost as it becomes,
a silent destructive obsession.

Farther and faster its lifted,
until its lining becomes my skin,
I push away my sickly thoughts,
to shove it deep within.

Reality hits me hard,
the blade slips deep inside,
wrinkles form on my skin,
blood flows in a crimson tide.

Guilty pleasure fills me,
Drowning in an ocean of blood,
Unconsciousness overtakes me,
I've fallen in a slip of mud.

I lay here in my corner,
with blood spilling from my wrist,
looking for eternal darkness,
knowing I won't be missed.

And here I die alone,
bloody tears sliding down my face,
my soul contained in darkness,
No more fear of quickened pace.

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