Suicidal tendencies

Putting something so deadly between my fingers
Feeling the blood flow every slice of the razor
Death never sounded as peaceful as it does in this foggy rainy night
Tranquility to an end in sight

Grasping the death tool strewed together lazily
So much pain my brains hazy
I keep thrashing downward
The more blood comes out the less I feel like a coward
Kitten scratches are all I can manage
As the phone calls flood with baggage

Screeching in my brain makes it difficult to go deeper
Twelve people appear in a circle around me making my mindset weaker
Snatching my bladed contraption from my grasp
But the lingering ache for an end comes back so fast

The meaning of life is lost in the lust of peace
Which remains unattainable until my body is at ease