Blood is Trinkling down my wrist.
It stings so much yet feels so good.
You cut it deeper every time.
You sit at home and always cry.
You tell them that it will be soon.
My wrist begins to hurt some more.
The razor blade is on the floor.
A pool of blood begins to form.
In different places more and more.
The more it bleeds the more it hurts.
It never stops until you seize the moment quick and fast.
To stop the blood from the slash.
You need to leave me alone at last.
So maybe it can be my chance.
I could get better quick and fast.
And put it all back in my past.
