Giving up

Sitting here I Blair my music. I can't let my mind consume me again. It's too dark. I can't allow myself to think. I must drowned out all thought or I will drown. Tick tock.

It's closing in. Help. Help. I can't stop it. It's closing in.

Sliced. Stabbed. Shot. I lay in my own blood. A boot comes crushing my ribs. Still. I lay in my blood. Letting it's warmth surround me, soon it goes cold. And I'm left laying. Taunts thrown my way. Mental abuse never seizing to end. Hair yanked up and cruelly cut. I'm thrown
 back down into my thick blood. Copper overwhelming my mouth. Still I lay. A slap to the face. My lip busts opens. Still Iay. Waiting. Waiting. For someone? For motivation? Another kick, more ribs crushed. A foot stomped onto my hand. Bones are shattered. I wither in my blood. I wait, and wait. Night has come, yet I continue to choke in my own blood. I lay waiting. I lay dying. I lay, and I wait.

Author's Note

Ignore my grammar please. Is this good/creative writing or no?