Unwanted

I feel like a shattered vase—no hope, no faith.
My glass is in a million pieces,
And my blood is on the floor, running into the tile creases.

I have no reason to breathe, no reason to hope, no reason to be understood.
No one comes to mind as I take off the safety pin
And throw it on the couch before I take a gift
That only God above was able to give.

I hate to say it, I hate to even wonder about it,
but I have no doubt I will regret this choice in the end.

Since I’m beyond fixing and understanding,
I’m too weak for this life—
For this cruel world, everyone else seems to have hope in.

I really am unwanted.
And the glass and blood on the floor
Will be soaked up and thrown away,
Because no one ever cuts themselves to understand the pain.