Don't You Feel Hardcore?

Well Well, My Dear Reader
You must feel SO hardcore
You must feel like a poet now
As you bleed out on the floor

Come Come, Dear Reader
Bleed out like you mean it
Cause if it hurts that badly
Then it hurts enough to scream it

Blood Blood, Dear Reader
Dripping down the drain
Writing poems to your razor
Thanks for taking away the pain

Drip Drip, Drear Reader
I know you love the sound
The blood drops make little patterns
Little patterns on the ground

Tick Tock, Dear Reader
The clock is ticking still
If time won't kill the pain
Then I guess your razor will

Mad? Mad?, Dear Reader
No, I would say I'm pissed
You could try to keep your promise
But you'll prefer to slit your wrists

Safe Safe, Dear Reader
"The razor cares like no one else"
But if your razor cared
Would it let you cut yourself?

Come Come, Dear Reader
Bleed out like you mean it
You swear you're not addicted
Then why the fu ck don't you just leave it?

Well Well, my dear reader
Don't you feel hardcore?
Don't you feel like a poet?
Maybe if you bleed a little more

Bye Bye, Dear Reader
You say you only hurt yourself
When blood and metal are on your wrist
You don't give a fu ck about anyone else

A person that I knew killed themselves today. You think that I'm being mean in this poem, well, I'm sorry. I truly am. But He died, he killed himself and he's never coming back. I didn't know him well, but i knew him. They said that he killed himself but I didn't know who he was until I looked at his yearbook picture. I called him by the name everyone else called him by. You let your friends do this to themselves, eventually, you'll realize its a mistake you'll regret.

-sorry, cutting just pisses me off
hope you get the sarcasm
(not for anyone on the site. and sorry if this seemed mean, but thats the way it is. no sugar coating, i hate it)

And all shall be well
And all manner of things shall be well.
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire,
And the fire and the rose are one.
~T. S. Eliot "Four Quartets"