-insert sad face-

It glints.
The knife.
It splints.
The flesh.
The feel brings scars anew.
It sings.
It bites.
Turn out.
The lights.
A haunting fear, but who?
Alone.
In fear.
Nobody.
Is here.
But Death's cold eyes, they bore.
New day.
New pain.
I feel.
No gain.
Yet still I return for more.
I slash.
I slit.
Where rope.
Once bit.
A sweet relief like 'still'.
A drop.
A splash.
Just one.
More gash.
And one more blue-red pill.
At last.
I find.
My own.
Pain's kind.
It offers itself to me.
I'm heavy.
Like lead.
But now.
I'm dead.
It's what I've always wished.