Red Ink

I lean my head back against the chair
try to think of what to write
nothing comes to mind
as i close my eyes and lay down tonight
pen and paper across my chest
razor blade upon my wrist
blood starts to drip onto the floor
but still, no words come with this
red ink smeared across my notebook
unable to hold my pen
i run my hand over each bleeding line
as i count, from one to ten
i get up and walk to the bathroom
but fall and grasp the sink
now I've made a mess
and everywhere, there is red ink
finally i get off the floor
and run water over my veins
i try to wash the red off of my shirt
but i can't because red ink stains
i go back into my room
and sit down upon my bed
finally i know what to write,
I'll write about how i feel dead
the first line goes like this
"Are you dead when you can't feel?"
and then here comes the second
"Why does life seem so unreal"
I've finally finished my poem
sign my name below the final line
i fall back, and die within my sheets
and for the first time, i feel fine.

please r/c.

I'll return the favor