The blade shook heavily in my hand.
Drips of blood, rich red, flow slowly down the band.
My eyes drift to my arm.
Line after line was inscribed deep, putting out harm.

The rich red blood trailed along my arm, staining it.
Pain surged up my arm, numbing it.
My heart beats slower, dying quicker by the minute.
How could I have done this?

The blade slipped from my weak hand and hit the floor.
The thud sounded like the shutting of a distant door.
I lay my body on the bed and close my eyes.
I could feel each drip of blood drip the lies.

My life flashed before me, showing what was.
I can now see what cutting does.
I hear you open the door and scream.
The terror in it reminds me of my dream.

You came and took me in your arms.
I lay limp, but alive, knowing I can't have more harm.
I hear the car engine as you rush me to the medical center.
My eyes start to close, death longing to enter.

I can smell latex gloves and people yelling orders.
Your warm hand clings to mine as I'm rushed to the OR.
You stay with me as they work to stop the bleeding.
My eyes look into yours with a small plea.

"If you love me, just let me die." I say.
The doctors and nurses work faster, pushing people out of the way.
You shake your head and yell at me.
My heart is drifting away, so why not just let me be?

A couple weeks go by, and you were getting sadder.
You said life to you now was like a falling ladder.
My death shouldn't have been so important to you,
yet you act like there's no more life for you.

Late one night you stab yourself in the heart.
As you die, you say, "Now we can never be apart."
My anger accumulates as you join me in hell,
but it dies even faster as I am yet again put under your spell.

My rich red blood stained the carpet of my floor,
and nobody in my family opens that door.
Your room is untouched by family as well,
as we dance to our song in the pits of hell.