Tears

I'm laying in my bed,
Alone and unable to sleep,
I hear nothing,
No noises out on the street.
And like a ton of bricks it hits me,
The urge to grab the blade,
And I try to fight it,
I start to cry,
Still on my bed I lay.
My soul tries to cry,
And my face is hurting so,
But the tears stop coming,
Why?
I don't know.
And then it seems so clear to me,
I can cut my pain away,
Because nothing else helps to make all this pain go away.
And it would be so easy to go into the bathroom and bleed,
But that's not what I really want,
My desires I don't want to feed.
But nothing else is helping me,
And there's nowhere to turn
When my head is pounding and piercing the silence and my arms begin to burn.
All I want is to get some sleep,
This keeps me up at night,
The desire to cut my arm open and bleed sometimes gibes me fright.
My fingers so poor are bleeding and sore,
I have to do something else,
We've been over this before,
There's only one other thing that remotely helps 
But I bury myself under the covers and try to cry a little bit more,
But what do I do when the tears will not come,
And what do I do when I'm alone? 
I trade in these unwilling tears for and hour of sheer bliss
Not from my eyes,
But from my wrist.