Distant

The blade shimmers in the candlelight,

stained, with blood,

my blood.

I tried to make things right,

I tried to please those around me.

But it was too late for me,

I started to forgive myself too late.

A puddle of blood rests at my feet,

more trickles out of my wrists.

I can feel my heart beating slower and slower,

my breath becoming shorter.

This wouldn't be the first time I've felt all of this,

but this time,

it will all end.

No more feeling alone,

distant, left out.

I am dragging myself out of this world,

with hope of a new one.

Where I am not an outcast,

tho no one treats me as one,

I can see it.

I am the lone ranger,

the guardian angel,

always there to help, to protect you,

but never to be seen.

I cannot help but face what I've done,

and know that I will never help again.

This is my last strike,

there will be no more after.

Only now will be important,

the future is in the past,

and my life has ceased to exist.