Slitting my wrist- true story

Last night I sat on the bathroom floor,
wishing for no more.
I picked up the blade and grasped it so tightly,
I could see a frightful image in the blade and that image was me.
I took it to my wrist,
and pushed it down so hard, hoping to no longer exist.
I slid It across my delicate skin,
knowing it was a sin.
A couple more slits wont do any harm,
it will only make me very calm.
I lay down on the bathroom floor which is so hard and cold,
blood is pouring out my wrists and dripping onto that hard cold floor.
I was blinded by tears,
as they streamed down my face.
Last night,
I lost the fight.
I ended up like this,
by slitting my wrist.