It wasn't enough.

I held the sharp metal against my skin, I felt the ague. I pressed it down hard, I felt ache. And through the consequence of self harm, I saw the crimson red. The pain subsided as I thought about how much I hated myself, about how much deserving I am of nothing. It wasn't enough. I stumbled around in the dark looking for something to make my mind wander off and there it was, a bottle of my grandfathers prescribed drugs. I picked it up, swallowed every possible pill that could make me drift away and die. For sure I thought I was gone this time...