I'm holding the razor,
above my wrist,
tears down my cheeks;
my hand in a fist.
I don't understand,
why I suffer so much pain,
and I cannot comprehend,
why I feel I've gone insane.
The temptation is rising,
to me it's so surprising,
how such a dangerous object,
could be so welcoming.
It's my first time;
my first cut,
I feel the tension release,
and a sinking feeling in my gut.
The warm, red liquid,
trickling down my hand,
gently tickling my brown skin,
No, this feeling you wouldn't understand.
I smile as I go in for just, one more cut,
not realizing that my body has had enough,
I take the razor; my new best friend,
cut a little deeper;
I fall to my end.
