Poetry

Sitting here in this dark room I feel as if the walls are closing in on me.
As i hold the blade in my hand against my wrist I think of all the people I will hurt, what will they lose, and who will care. 
Why cant I just get the strength to slice my wrist or maybe even my throat so i will stop feeling this pain inside.
Sitting here in this dark room I feel as if the walls are closing in on me. 
Everything is so blurry nothing makes sense. 
Sitting in the corner rocking back and forth squeezing my hands tight together looking down at the blade I have placed next to me my hands start to cramp up I begin notice they are red and sweaty. 
I feel as if the walls are closing in on me I look around the room and start to scream why do i have so much anger built up inside?