Emotional Bleed Out

Taking this blade, thin,
Thrusting it through, all the way,
Before ripping it out again,
In a crimson spray.

Pain pulsing purely,
Serpentine streams I see,
Froth and foam flowing free,
Masochistic miasma from me.

Eyes haze over and glaze,
Slowly bleeding out,
To weak now to raise,
My voice to shout,

If I desired aid,
If I desired to live,
So instead I slowly fade,
For there is nothing else for me to give.

For you to see my importance,
To deserve more than a glance,
As you through life prance,
Like the lord of the dance.

Why must I always fail?
I am altogether not good,
Perhaps none might even wail,
When my corpse is stiffer than wood.