paper or rope?

Breathing so heavy your chest hurts,
yet you feel like you have no air.
Falling to your knees as you walk into your home,
the sob pushing out of your mouth.

Pulling yourself up
you bang your head against the wall,
until sweet gooey blood
crawls down your face.

Too many feelings this time?
Maybe you need more?
Will writing work now,
or is it just the end?

You had rope saved for today,
already tied in the noose.
Can words save you till tomorrow,
Or have your rhymes all dried out.