Slit my wrists suicide
Black, blood, scraping imperfections from the inside;
Cut out the anger.
Cut out the hate, the endless self loathing.
Cut out my heart to shove it down my throat
So I can choke on all the emptiness
And spit up acid that burns like
A lifetime of shattered dreams
Or an early adolescence, cut out and carved
By a rusted razorblade,
Gone dull with guilt and shame.
Cut this image out of my brain,
Cut this confusion out of my veins-
Cut me open,
Cause I can't quite tell what's wrong,
But I'm broken.
I have no answers or solutions,
Only infinite thoughts,
Encaged within an abyss of gray.
Blood underneath my fingernails,
On my hands,
On my clothes,
But not inside of me...
Then there is nothing,
And I am nothing.
And nothing can make me hurt
More than myself.