The sink is dead.
It’s covered in red.
I watch it swirl
like a Christmas mint.
Never really liked mint much.

I don’t know why
the sink decided to die.
Maybe it’s because all
it does is cry and cry
like me.

The room is getting hazy,
and the razor in my hand
feels lazy.
I’m stumbling falling
down, down down.
The sink weeps tears of scarlet

I don’t know why you are crying, Sink.
You got your wish,
I got mine.
I’m fading now, so quietly.
Your tears are wetting my face.
Or maybe they’re mine.

Goodbye, Sink,
these are my final moments.

Maybe

it would have ended different somehow.

Maybe

next time someone will help you.

Maybe

next time someone will help me.