When no one is up,
i go to my room,
and lock myself in there.
i take out my blade,
taking it to my wrist,
and peal the fragile flesh.
cutting it so deep,
being sure not to weep,
while the blood flows ever so.
and stains the pure white carpet,
that i know,
now i see nothing but red.
my vision slowly blurring,
trying to stay awake,
but the cut is so deep.
that it makes me want to sleep,
so now i sit there losing concessionness,
i realize that i am
slowly fading.
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