Crappy Poetry (please read?)

Friendly Razor

I fall to the tiles,

of my bathroom floor,

the lock clicked shut,

on the old wooden door.

I couldn't take it anymore,

all this regret and sorrow,

It's all too much.

Will they remember me tomorrow?

I reach in my pocket,

fingers graze something sharp,

I pull out my only friend,

slightly leaving a mark.

I run the blade over my skin,

i shiver at it's touch,

Friendly Razor do my bidding,

I beg and begin my first cut.

The feeling is a good pain at first,

which soon turns to lust.

The feeling of release it brings,

So harming becomes a must.

I draw two more or maybe three,

in a type of trance,

sticky red liquid oozes from me,

across the tiles to dance.

The last thing i saw was the door broken down,

as my parents came in for me.

Then everything all soon blacked out,

So now you've read my story.