No title, just venting.

I guess it's not what I did,
but rather what I didn't.
I tried my oh so very best
But when it's done I'm just depressed
I tried the drugs and booze and all
though in the end just hit the wall
I've really worked on not cutting
But I love the blade and its gleam
my crimson cry, quite lost in it
up in my mind I throw a fit
all worked up on her, her I love
my heart shot down like a dove
I guess I'm just not good enough
but my god how I miss her touch
Her eyes I see, they're haunting me
they used to fill me up with glee
now they hurt me, and make me cry
I miss her so much I could die
I can never make her understand
my dying wish to hold her hand
this loneliness is killing me
see the blood spilled on the sheets?
it's not a simple cry for help
I'm telling you that this is hell