Poems in my darkest times

Every breath

With each breath she took
Ten more knives were put in her path.
With each step she took
Nine more scars appeared.
With every tear that fell
Eight more stitches were placed on her heart.
With every beat of her heart
Seven more drops of blood appeared.
With each finger holding a blade
Six people ran away.
With each thought she thought
Five more demons appeared
I could count to zero
But then there would be no more
Thoughts, breaths, beats, blades, blood.