Laying Here Poem by kayla marnach

I'm layin on the floor,
my wrists are bleeding,
more and more.
it's not blood of red,
but black like my soul.
there's no hope now,
for what i've done.
a razor in my hand,
and cuts in every direction.
i warned them all,
but still no show of affection.
i wanted them to stay,
but now they're gone,
and soon i will be to.
because when depression took over,
it infected my body, and mind,
for the rest of my time.
i have the blades,
now it's so sad
that my wrists are bleeding,
so very bad.
all i can do, is whisper goodbye,
now that i'm crying.
as i lay here,
so slowly dying.