I sit staring blankly at a wall of hate
as I cut my wrist to relieve the pain of the day
and I let it bleed down into my hands
and as it drips from my fingers
I feel the loss of weight
upon my shoulders.
There is nothing else to do
but let it bleed
without doing so I feel nothing.
I don't do it because of compassion
I do it to feel myself
in the world who has turned its back on me
and left me to sit alone atop of heaven or hell.
My blood crimson as it flows from the cut I made is now turning black
and I go to cut my other wrist
there's no tuning back as I do so
and as I cut I cry
for the not the pain
but for the love as it goes away
and all I can say is Let it bleed.