Slit Of The Wrist

 

 

Thoughts of Suicide cloud my mine I thought about this for the thousandth time.

 

The razor looks so good reflecting off my pale skin.

 

I cry and want to look inside and stop the beat of the lonely and sad heart.

 

My wall is high and sways from side to side like the wind on a rather cold October night.

 

I pull the sliver fast over my shinny pale skin and a great pain goes away.

 

The blood flows like a river on low as the red liquid falls down like rain on a white dress.

 

The sick felling goes away and the light came to play in my rather dull day.

 

But it goes away in just a few days cause thoughts come back to play.

 

And the rain falls and never goes away and my heart breaks and nothing seem like it's ever going to be alright