No Point

There's no point in writing these
No one ever reads them
My knukles hurt from beating myself up
My face is battered and bruised
My wrists are scared cut and bleeding
No one knows me
No one cares
I have to go die now
Does cutting make me a sell out
Does it make me pathetic
Oh well.......
Death is calling for me
I have to go join him now
..............................................................