• The light slowly fading,
    i saw that familiar puddle,
    so dark and black,
    i looked back to my wrists,
    saw that smooth cut,
    so fine under the blanket of blood.

    i see this everyday,
    each time looking so new,
    i never seem to know why though,
    that little trickle of blood,
    letting it fall in that puddle,
    turning so dark inside.

    when i am done i clean the puddle,
    the rag covered in red,
    i grab my arm bands,
    slip them over the fresh slashes,
    pull my sleeves down around them,
    throw the towel in the trash and leave.

    later i find myself sitting in my room,
    sitting by the open window,
    i stare down at the cuts,
    thinking about what each one ment to me,
    as i made each one so deep so sweet,
    it leaves me thinking so quiet.

    i fall asleep to my own soft cry,
    and dream about the way i will die,
    it comes to me so clear,
    i wasnt meant to be,
    i should not be in this world,
    do i wake up or not?