My Poetry

Bloody Wrists

I sit on the floor,

tears rolling down my face,

a blade in my hand,

clean wrist,

3 months i have been clean,

no cuts, no suicidal thoughts, I was happy

but today it all changed,

I sit on the floor of the bathroom with water in the bath,

one deep cut,

i watch the blood drip down my arm,

i rinse the blood in the bath,

another cut,

rinse again,

the blood doesn't stop after 10 deep cuts,

people are trying to get in,

to save me,

but it's too late, 

I'm already gone...