DIY operation

What is wrong with you?
You sit there watching the blood pool
A dark slash of hate you sketch on your body
Tears mirroring the blood as they both slide down flesh
This time you have gone too far and you know it
Skin gapping wipe, a mouth letting out a silent scream
All that can be heard is the blood that leaks from your anguish
White coats might have to interfere with this one
Or let's play doctor, though your task is not to heal
But you would have to face the woman with the knowing eyes
As you purchase the tools for your DIY operation
She knows what you plan and is disgusted
Wound closure strips, antiseptic, bandages, medical tape
The recipe you follow, your homemade concoction
All this tomorrow
The moon will see the blood, the respite, the pain
As the blood flows from you so does your ecstasy
The black fist's grip on your heart slightly weakens
The air expelled out of your lungs from a breath held too long
The shiver down your spine from a touch that couldn't be felt
And finally the pain, from a wound that wasn't made tonight