Cutter's Nightmare Poem by John Demon Jones

I hold the knife in shaking hands
My arms are laced with scarlet bands
My disheveled skin is patched and sown
I live with a pain that no one else has known
My contorted face is lined with tears
The dark bring forth my archaic fears
I know these choices are bringing me to my death
But there is no adjacent relief as my dying breath
I can feel the blood that's trickling down
Wake from my nightmare before I drown
I have died and lost my life
I tried so hard to end the strife
Time after time I face my end
The blade, the pill, the nooses bend
My skin was a canvass for unchecked emotion
I knifed out the writings holding all my devotion
Who knows when I finally end up dead
Who knows, all the pain might just be in my head
Oh well. Today I only enjoy the pain
Today I continue to go insane
So when I lay down in my bed
I sing a little tune inside my head
Hush little cutter, you're almost dead
You have no pulse and your pillow is red
Your family hates you, your friends let you bleed
Sleep tight with a knife, it's all you need
Hush my angel, broken and scarred
You didn't know life could be this hard
So go to sleep now, we wish you well
Now we may drag you right back to Hell