I take the blade
And
Sit on the floor
Next I know
One cut...
Two cuts...
Three cuts...
Four...
Blood runs
All the way down.
I feel a burning sensation
I have to be patient.
It'll stop.
But wait.
There's a clock.
It's ticking
I only have little time left.
But if I go.
I'll be in a better place
Because I did
One Cut...
Two Cuts...
Three Cuts...
Four...

YOU ARE READING
You Can't Save Me. No One Can...
Non-FictionThis is poems about death, suicide, and self harm. Things I've contemplated doing, and have done.