I Cut, I Slice - Dark Poem

I Slice, I Cut

The corner hugs me

Cockroaches appear

Razor blade in my hands

Giving my wrist a dark stare

I place my hand on my forehead

And squeeze tightly

Hoping to silent the depressing voices

That comes out loud and mighty

Tip of the blade touches the impression of my vein

Adrenalin rush, anticipating pain

Deeper I go I see blood spew

As the slice widens allowing much to flow through

I look at my face,

It don’t please me

I cut, I slice.

I cry, I die.