Cutting Poem by coty rutkowski

I sit here in my corner of solitude
The door locked
The lights dimmed
This razor in hand
The first cut is now made
The blood flowing
My vision beginning to fade
Ready for more
Then cut after cut reigns down
Until the words kill me are in my corpse
Then I trace and retrace them
Until...
My arm is coated in this divine blood
Then my head lays back
And a terrible sigh crawls out
The sigh of demons
Then I cry
Wishing to die
Then I think
Why? Oh why at night are we so vulnerable?
At night when we're alone we are most vulnerable
The demons come out as we close that door
All our terrible thoughts coming out the floor
So many our heads are sore
We forgot what we had in store
We don't want anymore
We slice to make some gore
As we pick up our divine tool of choice
Be it a knife or the sound of your voice
We cut every night
Sometimes not even knowing why
We had a content day
No problems
But we step into our rooms and all our problems come out
Now I sit here trying to get out
How will I get to the bathroom without anyone seeing
My dripping carcass?
Maybe we do it to have some other feeling than sorrow
The pain, it feels good you know
They say we have a problem, a condition
Maybe it's you people with the problems
We are fine as long as razor in hand
Or maybe we do it to get rid of the past
Or to empty all the sand
Or to have a story to tell
Or just to get attention
Now I sit here in this terrible holding cell
School as we call it
Trying so hard to hide my gashes
To hide these slashes
Taking a glance at them every so often
Waiting for the day we climb in that coffin
Hoping, wishing someone will notice
They will ask, 'are you alright? '
And of course I will reply 'I'm fine'
Hiding my shame, my need, my pain
It's such a shame
Could never ask for help
Not with this name
So I sit here again
In my corner of solitude
Doors locked
Lights dimmed
Razor in hand