A pen that's dug deep into a vain that won't heal
A sheltered eye that can't recognize the pain I'm plagued with

I just wish for once you could see the way I feel
A flooded pool of troubles through which I sift

Nowhere that i haven't been donated, left to drift
A string of blood drawing me away from my life

Nowhere to indulge but a space on my wrist
A reflection thats cast in the image of this knife

A word I never wanted to use but defines my life as strife
A dejected ending to an empty life

.. hmm....... I feel as if theres stuff missing beween the lines. Maybe I'm just tired.

i dont think ur tired i think i'm the one who doesn't know what a stanza is. Thx

I'm not a fan of suicide/cutter poems, but that was beautiful; you added a unique twist.