Unexpected

Head in hands, the razor nails dig into my sweltering brow,
And the ravenous beast comes alive once again.
I feel the urge to smash my surrondings into a fiasco of shattered fragments,
To tear the blotchy skin from every inch of bone,
To feel the throbbing adrelenaline scorching through every vein;
Am I kidding myself?

I'm a selfish bitch in reality,
So young and free
So much potential
So little trouble.
I have my whole life ahead to enjoy
and discover, to suffer and achieve;
To be.

Some people have hardly lived when they die so young,
Their corpse's hollow shells through life and beyond death;
Yet I, with so much more can't find the meaning and contemplate turning out the lights.

Moisture seeps from my palms as I grip the blade.
A deep gash appears crimson red but I don't feel a thing because I'm strong,
unbeatable and I don't have a fucking care.
I lick away the burgundy flourish because it makes me feel tougher, like I'm on top of everything.
I can't tell anyone about this:
Nobody knows that I ever feel this way,
Like the walls are caving in on me,
Like everyone's watching me, waiting for me to perform a miracle;
because after all they know I can cope and they think I'm a bloody genius.
Oh the pressure.

I drop the blade and walk away, keeping my head held high.
I know that I'll be fine for a day, a week, a month.
But these feelings aren't gone,
They'll keep coming back.

Head in hands, the razor nails dig into my sweltering brow,
And the ravenous beast comes alive once again.
I feel the urge to smash my surroundings into a fiasco of shattered fragments,
To tear the blotchy skin from every inch of bone,
To feel the throbbing adrenalinescorching through every vein;
Am I kidding myself? Hmm, this doesn't not seem to fit at all with the previous lines. Maybe something like "Maybe it's really a mask. A cruel joke, but I'm not laughing."

I'm a selfish bitch in reality,
So young and free
So much potential
So little trouble.
I have my whole life ahead to enjoy
and discover, to suffer and achieve;
To be. I really don't like this line much. It's so unoriginal and unimaginative compared to the first stanza. Also, I especially don't like the word "bitch" in here. You're reading along and suddenly you come to that and it's like, "Wow, just blurt it out!"

Some people have hardly lived when they die so young, You're just stating it. Show, don't tell! I know you can! You have in other lines.
Their corpse's hollow shells through life and beyond death; < Love this line!
Yet I, with so much more can't find the meaning and contemplate turning out the lights.

Moisture seeps from my palms as I grip the blade.
A deep gash appears crimson red but I don't feel a thing because I'm strong, I think you should take out the "red" it's rather redundant, because we know what color crimson is. Saying it once makes it more powerful.
unbeatable and I don't have a fucking care. Again, I dislike the curse, it just seems...blah.
I lick away the burgundy flourish because it makes me feel tougher, like I'm on top of everything. This would be cool...IF you were SHOWING, not telling. And "makes me feel tougher" really bothered me. Ug!
I can't tell anyone about this:
Nobody knows that I ever feel this way,
Like the walls are caving in on me,
Like everyone's watching me, waiting for me to perform a miracle;
because after all they know I can cope and they think I'm a bloody genius. I love these lines!
Oh the pressure.

I drop the blade and walk away, keeping my head held high.
I know that I'll be fine for a day, a week, a month.
But these feelings aren't gone,
They'll keep coming back. Eh, it's OK. Kinda of a disappointing ending, I was expecting something more 'Bam!' Maybe add a little excitement and creative lines to the ending?

Well, this was pretty good for being written in ten minutes. Some of the lines need work, but really, it's not bad. I think my favorite part in all was the last part of stanza four.

Meh. So. There's something that this poem needs badly. Rhythm. The lines simply do not flow into one another. They connect, meaning-wise, but the sound of the lines themselves seem really detached. My suggestion would be to relocate some of your line breaks so that each line is not its own individual statement, but combine with others to form a more meaningful one.

Keep it up, though. Good job.

-Kafka

The curse words are totally throwing the poem off and repetitive.
The tempo is uncertain and the rythme is uneven.
I like the basis of the poem but the build is in cohernet and lacks imager and visual comprehension.
I love the last stanza and the whole poem is very riveting.
Its hard to figure out at first but very unraveling.
Good luck and keep on writing!
~spartacus~

the pain was so sorrowful I etched out my heart...finaly the death I deserve ~dreamer~