There's Blood

There's blood on my knife.
Blood on my hands.
Blood down my arms.
Blood out my veins.
The world is cruel,
It's my only escape.
A handful of pills,
A deep, sharp pain.
A scar on a wrist,
A scar on my heart.
My memories can hurt,
My past isn't clean.
I've seen and done things,
That I can't undo.
So I take this knife,
My sharp, steal friend.
Slide it on my wrist,
And go into a state,
Of emptiness.
A long sleeve shirt,
Can take away evidence.
A few bucks spent on band-aids,
Is worth the forgetting, and numbness.