Looking at my scars
needing to make more
pick up the knife
let the comforting blade
caress my eager wrists
but still no blood
the blades gone dull
or my skin’s too thick
so I scrape the knife
back and forth
till my skin is raw
but still no blood
ripping and slicing
digging and crying
carving so deep to find it
but still no blood
tension building
so close I can almost see it
imagine the blood
crawling down my arm
taking with it all the pain
so I pierce away at the flesh
but still no blood
nothings working
lungs collapse
my hearts dejected
tears of frustration
but still no blood
feeling lost
and so utterly hopeless
my only comfort
and now its gone