My Past, My Life

As I lay on my bed and think of my past,
nothing comes to mind.
The happiness, the sadness,
so far away that I can't seem to find them.

My mind a flurry of thoughts and emotions,
my body reacting to instinct.
I take the blade sitting on the table,
and slit my arm with great intent.

As the calm rolls through me,
and the blood out of me,
I feel free.

I can hear things around me,
but can see nor feel anything.
My life a distant blur,
I wish I had the cure.

I hear him cry,
as I slowly die.
I feel his pain,
as I feel my shame.