The Choice is Mine

The choice is mine.
Oh, how divine.
It's such a rush.
Will I let the blood gush?
Let it bloom from my skin like a crimson flower.
The choice is mine and i feel I have power.
I press the blade to my skin.
Yes, i let temptation win.
I cut steady and slow,
to make the blood flow.
Clouds form in my brain,
and i try just to focus on the pain.
Once again, I let the blade bite.
It's true some would think that wasn't so bright.
But, as this red satin river flows from my wrist,
it let's me know that I still exist.