The blood runs down. Drips to the floor.
I look down. Tears no more.
I drop that blade tracing the drawings I just made.
My favorite colors silver and red.
Silver for the blade.
Red for the blood.
It takes me away takes me to a different place.
Locked I'm the bathroom losing sleeping silently on the floor.
The morning sun rises and my body finally dies.
For I have finally cut me out of the body my poor soul held.
