Random Acts of Violence

My eyes have not quite fully adjusted to the light but i can tell the wounds aren't as deep as they once were. Yet, the razor still gleams crimson against the cold white tile. I tilt my head back agaisnt the wall and try to drown out the voices from the other side. After another failed atempt i find myself alone again spilling onto the floor. They right all along i think... The stream of light from below the door is beggining to fade as i slump further into the wall. It is too soon for me to claim sucess but to late to admit defeat.

Author's Note

ignore grammar