Dreams

I know I've not broken it up into stanzas, but that was deliberate. And I've rambled on a bit...

I look with disinterest at the dripping blood,
It dribbles slowly down my wrist, reaching my hand,
And drops softly down on the table,
The small puddle grows and grows and grows.
The blood keeps on flowing out me,
My life trickling out of the cuts in my skin,
I know it will scar, but scars are good,
They remind me of what can happen,
When you let someone into your heart,
When you trust someone with your whole world,
And they throw it away like an empty packet,
Fluttering away in the wind, forgotten and discarded
It won’t stop bleeding, I’ve gone beyond caring.
Will this be the end of me and my pain?
Will I be able to rest forever undisturbed?
Or will someone drag me from my sleep,
Pull me out without thinking for a second,
That maybe I’m better off gone.
This world is filled with hate and anger,
But my dreams are filled with love and wishes.
Am I not allowed to dream for eternity?
Floating away on my silver lined cloud,
Away from the woe and suffering that fills my world.
But now I’m being yanked back to awareness,
My fantasy being ripped from me,
They think they’re saving me from something,
But they’re just taking me back to my suffering.

I really like this poem exsept for one nitpick

And drops softly down on the table,

Softly doesn't seem quite right as usually you don't say that liquid drops softly onto something that might be just me though.
Overall a real nice poem even though the idea of it a bit cliche, well done.

-Sweet♥

Thanks for the review, but please don't say that the poem is 'cliche'. This is stuff that I have actually gone through, and writing was a way out, so please don't say that.

I'm not saying you haven't been through it i'm just saying that it is a very used topic and you presented it in a different and good way