This Is My Victory

I wish to feel again, just one more cut of surging pain
Staining the beautiful floors, being the only proof I have
That I made one remaining mark with this poor excuse for life.
Just one more vein to bleed dry, one more hope killed
And one last promise broken, as revenge to all that hurt me.
They’ve watched me fight for something that they have all achieved
My struggles giving them satisfaction, while causing me grief.
It was never a battle, for I could never win.

I used to watch the life drain from my delicate, precious wrists
But now there is no visible soul in the beautiful depth of these cuts.
This crimson only bleeds out my pain, surely drawing forth my death
For my life has been made of nothing but suffering, and I bleed that out.
I wish to cry no longer, and I know that to accomplish this
I must either smile, or remove myself from this lie I stopped believing.
The silence I hear is overwhelming, and as I pick up the blade
I pray for a scream, if I truly do feel.

I clutch my hand tight around this tool of destruction I’ve created
Proud to know that this decision is mine, that this is my victory.
Searching for something familiar, I found myself drawn to this solution
And the false sense of security that covers this comforting razorblade.
Gone is my reason for holding on to nothing, for I finally for my place
Belonging with the silent, the simplicity of this suicidal dream is controlling.
As I feel the kiss of the cool metal against my wrist, I pause a moment
Then begin, with one last triumphant smile…
My glorious defeat.