Apathy..

Whatâ??s wrong with me?
No emotion to show.
Where have I gone?
Only I know.
Oblivious to an unconcerned world.
Never care what goes on.
My mind in too deep,
Donâ??t know right from wrong.
Maybe I do know,
I simply just donâ??t care.
My blood is thick,
I donâ??t become aware.
Aware of what?
Iâ??m not quite sure.
All I know,
Is that the blade is always my cure.
The cure to a personal hell.
A lonely life with no emotion,
Thereâ??s not much more to tell.
Just a nightly ritual,
Where I slip into a painless bliss.
No more heartfelt pain,
When the blood runs down my wrist.
The physical hurt matters not,
For with the twist of a blade,
Inner ache becomes okay.
With the spilling of personal blood,
Inner hurt becomes undone.