Suicide and Love

Your picture set me over the edge,
slicing, dicing,
can't feel it...
I'm already dead.
No tears fall,
just a waterfall of blood,
from the wrists you seem to have cut.
Pulling hair with imaginary hands,
why are you doing this to me again?
The tears aren't falling,
the blood is still flowing,
I'm dying slowly on the inside.
My phone rings,
as I see it's you.
"Hello?" I say tiredly,
not wanting you to hear the loss I'm now consumed by.
"I pushed you,
yelling, but I still love you," he said.
"And I don't want anything bad,
but I fear it's going to happen again."
I hang up,
not another word escapes me.
Starting to cry,
tearing up at all the lies,
now I don't want to die.
My wrists are flowing,
not able to stop,
even for the love of you.
I stumble and fall,
slipping into the darkness.
You tried to help,
but I didn't let you,
because of my love for you.