The Blade

Here I lay, in this cold empty shell,
The world is around me, seemingly inviting,
Yet here I am enclosed in this Hell.
I strive to go on, but fail miserably in my trying.

Nothing is right, my blue sky fades black.
The only one I need is the one I am without.
I see everyone sneering and jeering behind my back,
Every last one of them, battling for the clout.

So here once again, I curl up, hiding from what’s real.
The one thing there that never lies is this blade.
So welcoming it rests in my hand, perfectly expressing how I feel.
Before anyone can stop me, it’s far too late.

Slicing through my pale skin, out drains blood red,
The anger and sadness slips through the incision like my life force.
Gazing at my scars and fresh inflictions, I realize I am dead.
Nothing to feel, no more worries, my stars are back on the right course.

Perhaps I have taken it too far this time, for I went too deep.
Now laying on the cold ground, surrounded by the warmth of my blood,
I look up to the ceiling, thinking about how I can now be free.
Maybe this is what it’ll take for you to realize I needed your love. 

But, I know that no one will come looking for my pitiful self.
Though I shall miss the ones I leave behind, their memory will fade.
I honestly believe that you never even really cared at all.
So here I slip into the land of nothingness, my last sight being that of the blade.

~CrayCrayola~