end of me

Why am I like this? Why am I such a loser? Here I am. Sitting in this cold, dark room. Crying. I try drying up my tears but my eyes get heavier and heavier. My salty tears drop on the floor, leaving a small puddle. Why am I here? I am NOT needed here. I grab my blood encrusted razor and press it against my skin. I take a deep breath and slice as I exhale. First nothing, but then the blood starts forming. Little blood bubbles, how lovely. As my crying intensifies I cut more and more and more...and then I stop. I grab my dark ruby arm and  fall to my knees. I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this. I just wanted to be happy, but I will never be happy. I lost myself. I'm so alone. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin everything.
. . . .
There's a wrap! Maybe, maybe I can tie up my arm and go get help!
No, nobody cares why can't you see that?
But I want to live!
No, you were dead long ago.
I want another chance!
Give up. There's nothing here for you. You are nothing

...
My blood. It's everywhere. I'll ju-just lay here. This, this is the end of me.