Why can't I die?

My blood spills out.
Beading around the edges,
of the clean cut I made.
Gleaming red on my pale wrist.
Again and again,
The silver blade slides.
Across the tender flesh
Criss-crossing patterns
decorate my skin.
And I can only think,
and wonder why...
why can't I die.

I've bled myself dry,
of every emotion.
No longer caring.
I've lost my mind,
been that way for quite some time.
Yet each time I cut
I wonder why...
why can't I die.

I beg with the heavens.
Plead on my knees to hell.
Hoping one or the other
will release my tortured soul.
As I sit here,
wondering why...
why can't I die

by BloodLustingElf
posted on 04/03/2008