A Heart Of Cold

My mind has gone weary,
my heart has grown cold.
They don't know the pain they've caused me,
from the lies they have told.
With every beat of my heart,
I want death more.
I'm slowly falling apart.
People tell me "That's life.",
and don't know their words cut me like this knife.
With every word, my blood spills another drop,
one after another, and no, it doesn't stop.
It falls on the floor and then leaves a stain.
An invincible imprint,
like the scars on my wrists,
that released my pain.
I hope you remember the blood I've spilt,
and the tears I've shed.
I hope I've cut you with the words I've said.