Death Puzzle

I keep telling myself everyday, today's the day to die. And every day I'm not getting any closer to my goal. Should I let the days pass by? Some days I come so close. But my razor is not where it's supposed to be. So I think of a heavy dose. Searching and searching, no razor in sight.
Until I look one last place, under the desk light.
What my eyes behold, is like God. It helps me release pain, and set it free. As I pick up the beloved possession of mine, in the light...I see it shine.
Gripping it oh so tight, careful not to drop it.
I place it between my index, and thumb, perfect fit.
Sliding it slowly letting the pain come.
Pushing down harder, deeper with my thumb.
As the blood ever so gracefully drips off of my fingertips and onto the floor.
I decide there's plenty of reasons to do more.
Twenty-Five cuts deeper than ever up and down my arm, wrist to elbow.
Do I dare let them show?
Yes, but only to the people who understand my reasons for my action.
Not for fun, not for attention, and not for satisfaction.
But for pain.
Watching the blood pour down like rain.
Let me dwell in my life of sorrow, let me dwell.
Soon I'll live eternal life in hell.
Let my live in painful peace.
And let Satan lay down my last death puzzle piece.