Death Game Poem by dakota lee

three years ago i started a game,
a death game
a mind game
its trickery
it is like a jester with a deck of cards
each day i cut a little cut in my arm
and each day it grows bigger
then i move from my arms to my shoulders
evntualy im at my chest
i do not count them because it scares me
but it is my rush, my anxiety
that keeps me going
when a line clears up i redo it
as they grow deeper
my mind, my brain goes foggy
i faint from the loss of blood
i recover the next morning
i clean my scars they fade away
after three days and i repeat
but something weird happened
when i did it agin
when i passed out
the next mornig
i never woke up