Just Another Statistic

The voices in my head yell and scream at me
Push the blade deeper they say
It wont hurt, it'll be fun
What are you waiting for...

I figure its the right thing to do
Why would they tell me if it was wrong
So I pick up my knife
And slowly bring it down to my ever inviting wrists

Then a small innocent voice says stop
Don't do it, I beg of you
Don't give in to temptation
It'll only bring sorrow to those around you

A puzzled look crosses my face, I'm confused
Why would one of them lie to me
Who should I believe
Who should I listen to

The voices argue back and forth
I try to block them out of my head
But the noise is to loud
Its deafening me

The constant arguing brings back memories
Memories of my parents yelling
My Dad hitting my Mum
My Mum cowering trying to protect herself

So I do the only thing I know how
When things get really bad
I pick up my knife
No doubt in my mind this time

I stab the blade into my waiting wrist
And pull it along my flesh
Warm, rich blood pours down my arm
Sweet relief from it all

This crimson river I've created keeps on flowing
It never bleed this much before
I panic trying to stop the blood
But its no use it wont quit

I'm scared whats going to happen to me
I feel my body becoming weaker
I can hardly move now
But I don't want to give up yet

I never meant for this to happen
I never wanted to cause death
All I wanted was relief from it all
But now theres nothing to do but wait

I lay there in a pool of my blood
Thinking about all the things I never got to do
Then I wonder if anyone will miss me or will I be forgotten
Doomed to become just another statistic

Everything in this poem is completely fictional, please vote/comment thanks