It always wins

I feel it now, pulling at me pulling
The knife inside my bag is calling
In cutting I feel pure excitement
when I see blood pure delightment
laughing as I see my pain
letting it all out again
standing in the loos at school
my blood is forming a small pool
around me as I start to cry
suddenly I realise
I did the thing I so despise
I gave in, was weak to the call
Again I stumble, Again I fall
Tears are blurring up my eyes
As I think through all my lies
excuses for staying so long
different ways to prove them wrong
I grab another paper towel
and in this cubicle I cower
looking at my mangled arms
The results of my self harm
But the best is still to arrive
when you look and see my sides
my legs right at the very top
where the bloodstains never stop
where I use the carving knife
using it to help my life
waiting in anticipation
crying out in exultation
as the cut it opens now
fresh blood leaking, visions cloud
as I collapse to the floor
my head pressed against the door
Too much blood lost in one time
But the feelings...were....sublime