Unfinished Suicide

Contemplating my demise
As I stare into the mirror.
My vision blurs slightly
The image not getting clearer.

The blood upon the glass
Begins to leak into the sink.
My thoughts jumble together�
I cut without a single blink.

I dare not flinch with pain
Because it just doesn�t hurt.
I�ve done it too much for my health�
Been there, done that, got the shirt.

Finally, as I fall to the ground
I take in a slow deep breath,
I�ve accepted the fact now
That I will never enjoy death.

I�ve become tolerant to pain
And my tolerance taunts me.
I can�t bleed my pain out
For if I could die, here I wouldn�t be.

My skin only folds over slowly.
Healing, not leaving even a blemish.
I�ve tried so many times though,
All I want to do is just diminish.

I take the blade, and cut deeper
I pull the silver a lot harder
Hoping that I can feel the pain�
For I want to suffer this favored martyr.

But there is nothing there, just blood.
It stains my skin, but doesn�t cause pain.
This isn�t why I do it; I need the feeling!
But it�s been taken away to drive me insane.

I suppose I�m being punished�
I just come up with an unfinished suicide
And nothing more comes along.
Not death, just the pain that stays inside.