Late

You say that you’ll always be there.

You say that you really care.

But when I need a shoulder to cry on,

You are never there to rely on.

Once the tears and pain have gone

You ask me “Honey what’s wrong?”

“You’re a little late,” I say

“What does it matter now? Just go away…”

I push you away so easily

And you walk away without a second look at me.

Then I’m left all alone again

Thinking of how I’ll get rid of all the pain.

I have no other choice

But to put the blade to my wrist

As one lonely tear falls down my cheek

My right hand slips and goes a bit too deep.

I’m screaming so sharply

But no one hears me.

Blood streaming down my arm, more than expected

I glance at it through blurry eyes, why are you so stupid?

The pipes that were once veins are now split apart

This is all thanks to you from the very start.

If you didn’t say all those things I wouldn’t have taken it in

But you did, and I’m taking it out on my skin.

Please someone save me from my horror

I can’t keep this up any longer.

Right now it’s just the blade to my wrist

Next it’s going to be the blade to my neck, what a risk.

Feeling faint, I drag myself to the bedside drawer

Pick up the knife that teases me more and more.

“Why do I have to feel this way?”

Every second, minute, hour. Every day.

While my left hand is dead

Time to tell my body this is the end.

I take one last look at the picture of us

And that’s what confirms me that I must.

The knife makes its way to my throat

I close my eyes, trying hard not to choke.

“Thanks for nothing.” I whisper.

That’s when I hear a little whimper.

My eyes flutter open automatically

There you are standing at the door saying “Don’t be silly!”

That just brings me to my point, here I go

I shove the blade to the joint; you’re screaming “NO!”

With my last breath I manage to speak

“You’re late… always late…” You become weak

You’re on your knees

Begging please

But there’s nothing you can do

Even if you wanted to.

You’re late.

You’re always late.

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