Bathed in Blood

The blood surrounds me,
I swim in it's pools.
My blood it covers me,
I'm prisoner to my tools.

The knife is my pillow,
as I bask on the edge of life.
I cut deeper and deeper,
until I'm fighting with strife.

The gash sucks me in,
while open on my flesh.
The rapids they scare me,
my blood no longer I catch.

I feel better,
and I love the pain.
I cry to myself,
and shake in disdain.

But I like the feeling,
and cannot stop.
The metal blade within me,
and my life I hault.