Pride, Sliced With a Box Cutter

I vividly remember the pools of blood on the floor the soul, once mine, standing in the door the Pain, the scars, the blood falling drip by drip my teeth carving their way into my bottom lip the razor to my vanity unleashing my insanity my pride, once strong, diminishing in the blink of an eye my pride, now gone, weeping as it waved goodbye the floor, the walls, the bed drenched in crimson red 10:43, the time my ego's pronounced dead crying, yearning for salvation being clenched tightly in the arms of desolation stains of blood repeating in my mind the vision of my arrogance leaving me behind my pride, once a god, a messiah with no stutter slicing itself with the edge of a box cutter