Sadness is a virus that attacks the human being within

I'm sitting on the ******* toilet crying and all I think is I that I need to write. Ihadve to write. I am not good enough .I havenever been good enough but in this space, when I write IAMGOOD. I am a not pretty or **** or desirable but I am an author and if that's not enough *******. You'll probably end up in my words anyway

The blood seeps out of my thick pale thighs
and it doesn't seem to stop
The tears fall out of my dark hazel eyes
as I hear the razor drop
My body turns numb while ignoring the pain
it feels like I'm half dead
The blood gets darker and my eyes get wetter
there are absolutely no thoughts in my head
All I can hear is my heartbeat
it isn't beating fast anymore
I feel myself getting colder
as I sit on the cold tile floor
I feel myself getting sleepy
as if I just ran a really long race
I close my eyes and continue to bleed
while wiping the tears off of my face
I'm hurting inside more than usual today
the pain just won't go away
I could write in a journal or talk to someone
but what the hell am I supposed to say?
No one in this life can help me
so I cut to cope with the pain
All the while hoping I die
so I can get the **** away from everybody else

Timing's a funny thing.
It seems I always stroll into a persons' life,
exactly when I'm most useful.
Just a stranger who pops in,
straightens up the place a bit,
then leaves.
Rarely though,
is my timing ever to my own benefit.
Too late, too early,
doesn't matter.
I can only hope that perhaps one day,
I'll find myself somewhere I'm meant to stay.