Rags and razors

They rip through skin
and tear through vein
they bring the scent
of sweet sweet pain
they spill the blood
onto the floor
the bleed until
you hurt no more
the bring redemption
and a form of relief
the offer up a cleansing
and allow room to breathe
they wipe til clean
your blood soaked fists
gently dabbing
your slashed up wrists
drawing in the wet, warm blood
trying to stop
the great red flood