Dying.

I cut,
I bleed,
It's a continuing greed,
A synchronizing Pattern,
Followed without fail,
Day by day,
As I slowly exhale,
Feeling the blood,
Rush straight for it's exit,
Knowing, and hating, fearing to regret it,
The surge,
The release,
Of slicing each piece,
Cannot be described,
Though too often,
We try,
Only those attempted,
Can fully relate,
To watching an incision,
Pour out the hate,
I cry,
I scream,
It's not just as it seems,
Slide down the door,
As you fall,
Hit the floor,
Watching tears as they glide,
Down your face,
There's nowhere to hide,
Wanting,
And craving,
Just one last time of engraving,
It's eating you,
Ripping you,
Breaking you out of your shell,
Promising and whispering,
Of an afterlife in hell,
But you breathe,
First in slowly,
Then quickly out,
Following through the next few seconds,
With doubt,
You crumble, you stumble, tumble, and fall,
Taking a stand,
As you fall,
Now weak and crying,
Holding tight, and you're trying,
But secretly wishing,
You could escape by just flying,
Though you're weighed down,
And worthless -
And everyone now knows that you're dying ...

^^ Just a bunch of feelings with no rhyme pattern or sequence ... I just sort of- let loose.