Close to death

Sitting in the corner, with my hands holding up my face.
The tears falling from my eyes at an ever so slow pace.

Looking up into the darkness at the object i hold on my wrist,
Grimicing from the site of blood, and the vain I nearly missed.

Trying to hold back the thoughts of anger, and those of pain,
Making myself believe that there is nothing else to gain.

Holding on to the memories that I wish would disappear,
Giving up on all the things that are still keeping me here.

Waiting for my time to come when death will be my fate,
Thinking maybe I can leave this world that i'll always seem to hate.