raZor bLades, RaZor paiNs

when i opened the door, all i saw was blood. at first. i saw the pack of razor blades torn open, all 5 spread out across the floor. an empty bottle of alcohol, but my sight is too fuzzy to read it. it's tipped over, dripping out a little bit. a towel soaked in blood. little blue pills spotting the floor, the 1/2 empty bottle in her hand. when i pause, i see her. she's sprawled out holding a lighter in another hand. her eyes are wide open, swollen, and her lips are moving. she's talking-mumbling-no, singing softly. i look up at the ceiling. it's all fuzzy. i can feel the gash in my side that someone put there. it wasn't me. it wasn't me. it was the blade. he did it. i hear music, voices, which? i'm not sure. it's being played in slow motion. i think i'm screaming but maybe it's just in my head. i swallow another little blue pill hoping it'll put me to sleep. i've taken 5 already. the smoke is choking my veins. maybe she tried to hang herself. she's an angel without wings. maybe she's trying to stay alive and the heavens want to keep her but hell won't take her later. i'm hoping she'll escape and i'll lose conciousness so we won't have to deal with this. when i move, the wound bleeds more. it stings. stop it, i say, stop bleeding. she's fading in and out. i feed her another pill but she refuses. no? i say but she tilts her head. the pieces of the room are falling away. she won't get that damn lighter away from my skin. i swing hard at her and she falls into shards, a million pieces, like glass. why'd you have to go an do that? you just broke my favorite mirror...