Behind Closed Doors

I feel the blood
Run down my wrist.
It's warm embrace
From a dagger's kiss.
The pain explodes
From it's sharp bite.
But maybe I
Will sleep tonight.
My life's blood pours
Onto the floor.
It's strange what happens
Behind closed doors.
I look down
At my arms, and smile.
Perhaps this will help me
Feel alive for awhile.
People tell me
The answer isn't pain.
But if it keeps me
The least but sane
Then why should I stop
This forbidden affair?
Why should I quit
When nobody cares?
Still, you frown
When I go for the knife
But isn't it better
Than taking my life?...