I cry, for nobody hears me

I cry,
For nobody hears me

Sitting in a dirty, ripped box down an ally way;
I cry my tears,
The world twirls around me
In an unexplainable matter,
People pass by,
Either not caring or ignoring,

I cry out in pain,
For I have nothing to do otherwise,

I am tortured by this nothingness,
What is to explain my existence?
I am of suffering, pain, and confusion,
My substance is the sculpture of a tortured soul,

Of the corner of my eye I see a shard of glass,
With my last ounce of hope,
I grab it,
Twisting the piece around in my hand,
I slit my fingers with curiosity,
Blood gushes,
Flowing indefinitely,

I feel free,

I take it in my palm,
Squeezing it,
I run it across my neck,

My eyelids shut close,
The last light fades;
I welcome the darkness like a new friend,
So this is what it comes to,
All this pain is to end in death,
But stop in no glory,