I click off the bedroom light
plunging myself into darkness
and wading through a taunting silence
making my way to a corner to hide
My back presses against the wall
sliding down the cold
dark plaster
blood rushes faster and faster
getting ready to fall
The seat is hard
as expected
bony cheeks against short carpet
but I don't even notice it
when I'm in depression
Pale
stripped arm lays
sprawled across my bent legs
a scoreboard of pain
memories that will always remain
I stop mid-trace
shivering involuntarily
looking around despairingly
til I find the blade
Its placed right next to me
oh
so innocent
giving me the a hint
that its just as cold and lonely
I pick it up slowly
weighing heavily in my hand
but not as much heart possibly can
before it is released
The teeth settle on my skin
with a tiny glint
in the ray of light coming in
escaping the curtain
I cant help but to think
about the bitter irony
that even in my misery
the lights just out of reach
mocking me
In my frustration
I push harder than intended to
the edge of the knife breaks through
and the blood races
Just a bit light-headed
my flesh now in ruins
but I still want to do it
again and again
Why
I don't even understand
it just seems right
to do something but hide
my silent stand
All I feel is physical hurt
but finally the tears aren't falling
to release the heart's cry calling
far to long unheard
Can you blame me
can you blame it
for me being in this situation
when it was you
world
who drove this to be?
I hate the blade
like i hate a crowd
but its here with me now
my murderous save