I cut myself far too deep.
Now the wound does not but weep.
Making it there was a flood.
Thick and dark red flowing blood.
The stitches I should have got.
However, I just did not.
Now I’ve got an open wound,
and yet still I have not swooned.
Because this I did to me.
That’s the way it had to be.
With no pity for myself,
I placed blade upon the shelf.
Giving up the cuts for life.
They create pain for my wife.
And since that is not my goal,
It gives me a good strong pull.
Pull to quit this bloody act,
when quit I must, that’s a fact.
This time I will stop for sure.
This time I will stop for her.