Red teardrops

My eyes are ablaze with fires.
With a smile that hides all my falsehoods,
shouting, pleading, and calling out
A final, panicked, and helpless yell.

Each vein is dripping with scarlet tears.
A desperate desire to end this suffering,
Because all hope inside of me has been lost, this silver blade remains at my side.

Each day's sunset and the onset of night,
The devil plays with me because I'm weak, alone, and a useless mess.
He has a broken child to deal with.

When he speaks my name, I'm tempted.
An escape route, an end to shame,
It feels a lot less real now,
I must make a pact with the Devil in blood.

They'll claim that I committed suicide, but nobody will ever realize how much they lied; it wasn't a rope, a razor, or pills that shattered my spirit and gave me the chills.

I had already passed away internally for a very long time, and continuing to live each day was a chore that would never stop.
A broken spirit and an empty mind.

I invite the devil with the key of self-harm while I wait in the darkness, in quiet, and by myself. Rose-tinted nostalgia has bloomed all around me.
With the blood from my arm, I use it to help him open the door.