Footprints in Blood

I'm leaning over the toilet bowl,
Puking up, fresh blood,

The knife was just laying there, but before I knew what was happening, it was done...

Yes, I lifted it up, gripped it tight,
Shoved it down my thorat with all the delight... Then I pulled it out and ran...

Ran for the washroom...

I'm trapped in my own head... All alone...

I'm pounding to get out...But I don't have a key...

I'm just so sick of being... Being me...

The doctors say, I'm delusional, venturing into insanity...

Get up I do, off of the floor,
I venture to the door...

Blood is everywhere, streaming down my leg...

I wipe my feet off on a towl,

And leave my footprints in blood,

On a clean clean rag...