Bathroom Floor

  I sit with my arm resting on the bathroom floor. The door is locked and a red puddle starts to form. I open and close my tightly clenched hand, wondering how big I can make this puddle get. How long until my vision becomes blurred and the strength I have isn’t enough to carry on. But the cut slowly clots and the blood finally stops. I cut again to see how far I can go... how big the puddle will get. I close my eyes, my thoughts lost in a sense of peace. But this feeling ever lasts. I am left again with pain and utter frustration, until I am yet again sitting with my arm resting on the bathroom floor.