Warm, and stinging it drips from my wrist
The blood he made
Amount to nothing, nothing to look forward to
Not going anywhere
A second of happiness a year of misery
Kill myself now and no-one notices that I'm not there
No-one to miss, missed by none
Drowning in the grief that you gave me
Everything will not be alright
He made me bleed tonight and I hate him so much that
one of us must die
I don't hate the blood
The blood makes me feel strong
The blood makes me feel alive
The blood makes me feel real
Not real, not alive, going through the motions of yesterday
Who makes you feel the way that I make you feel?

Laura Cummings

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dead-to-the-world/