My soul is gone.

I feel the cold air leak under the door
into the frozenness of my finger tips
as my hand hangs from the bed,
letting the warm blood
run down.

When my spirit looks up
at me as if it is a child
that has just lost its only reason
of life. It speaks.
It simply gives a question, one that I have no answer to.

"Why?" It asked.
The only response
I could possibly give, were thoughts.
Im sorry. I didn't realize what I was doing.
I never meant to hurt you.

The knife on the floor beckons the next user,
I simply lay there as my spirit
So beautiful
Run away.
Leaving me to my death.