Point the needles, rusty blade,
Hiding in shadows in the night's dull shade
Pricking fingers, breaking skin
This is the way my whole life's been
Escaping the numbness and the suffocating dread
Into the comfort of my blood I fled
Shining razor and comforting pain
Keeping me calm and keeping me sane
Tearing skin and blood seaps through
Watching as cuts go from one to two
And on to three, on to four,
on to five, just more and more.
Crimson river flowing steadily down
Bloody droplets hit the ground
Slipping into that comforting black
Not wanting to ever return, come back
Into my dark oblivion fall
Take the blood, take it all
Dropping the knife as my conscientiousness fades
Slowly releasing the blody blade.
The Blade
Did you like this poem? Write one of your own!

