Curse of streaks of red

I have the curse of streaks of red,
now I cannot stand the human touch.
My mind desires me more dead,
and my heart requests it just as much.

I worry not over heaven nor hell,
for in the end I will just abide death.
It is in the darkness where I dwell,
departing with my last failing breath.

No one ever sought to heal my pain,
I broke like a dam in a flood.
Life ceased when I severed that vein,
and I drowned in my own blood.