When it touched

I go to my bathroom,
Last box all the way at the bottom,
under my sink lays a razor blade.

When it touches,
cutting you wrist,
the blood leaving a trail,
right behind the razor.

How it takes all the worries away,
But when it heals,
All those problems come back.

They don't leave you,
Just another thing you have to hide.
No one can find out,
But the pain was so great.

You feel like you should die,
Just wanting your problems to go away.