The First Cut Is The Deepest

I pick up the weapon and begin the job,
My wrist starts to shake and throb.
I press the blade against my scar,
Now the pain starts to begin,
I feel the knife slit open my skin.
Cherry liquid rushes out of the open sore,
Slowly two drops of blood beat the floor.
One tear forms in my eye,
Suddenly I wish to die.
I press the blade harder and it breaks a vain,
Now more blood seeps bringing intense pain.
I cry a single tear and quickly many more,
As hundreds of drops of blood,
Rapidly make a puddle on my floor.
I know the end is near as I lay down my knife.
It suddenly strikes me that I?m going to die.
The last moments of my life I bow my head,
I pray to my god that I go to heaven when I?m dead.
I close my eyes and rest my head,
Closure comes and finally I?m dead.