Razorblades

It's funny, isn't it?
It's scary.
A thin strip of metal, so small, so fragile.
It's strange to think how much damage it can cause.
It can rip apart your skin
the way someone broke your heart,
and when you're all alone,
the metal becomes your only friend.
You can slice yourself to ribbons
barely breathing, just existing
and you say you can quit
as you hold it to your wrist
and dig it into your skin
until the blood runs like a flood
But still you say you're fine
even as the razor falls from between your fingers
and you slump to the floor
in death's final embrace.