Why Does It Never Happen

I sit in the corner
All alone
I hold myself
I wonder why

Why am I still here
After all these time I try
I still want to die

I look for a blade near me
I find one
I hold it
I stroke the razor-sharp edge
It cuts my finger

But that is not what I want
It will never be what I want

I slowly cut my wrist
I then slice my wrists
And continue to slice
Until I see blood

It trickles at first not wanting to come out
But then it gushes sprinting out of the mark I made
After that Gushing I do not know what happens next
As holding myself
I collapse one last time