Sweet Poetry

It is another night
another time to write.
The old razor in my
hand, it is time to
let the crimson flow
yet again as I write
and let the all pain go.
Blood drips on the
pages as the writing
starts, tears streaming
down my face.Sweet
poetry will this be
with a blood stained
heart it pours out.
The words are red
and saddening as
the cuts start to go
deeper the poetry
will soon be complete
and the blood will
cease to flow and
to the next world I
will go, the blood now
pooled on the floor
the time has come
to say goodbye,
such sweet poetry I wrote.