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...
No FicciónThis is poems about death, suicide, and self harm. Things I've contemplated doing, and have done.