Statistic (graphic)

I push the blade into my wrist and I am free,
Free from all pain and feeling
For a brief second I am content.
Blood trickles at first, then flows,
Pulse rising, I can feel my heart beat strongly,
Rythmically,
I wonder, for how much longer?
A drop falls to my thigh, sliding,
Curling, writhing down my leg.
Another twist of the blade,
The blood flows faster, thicker,
A torrent; walls turn crimson
And I laugh.
It's so easy to bleed my life away like so many others,
Why didn't I see it sooner?
A renewed purpose, I push the blade deeper.
A tendon snaps, my hand goes limp,
Blood gushes and I know this night will be my last.
I am not afraid, merely eager,
My vision blurs, it excites me more,
I know my time is near.
I am the master of my own fate and so be it,
I just became a statistic.