The Meaning

As the blood dribbles down,
I feel the pain. I feel the tears.
I see the scars, I felt each and every single one of them.
The pain and stories behind them.
All the blood I lost, all the time I've wasted.
Everything happens for a reason, but why this?
As the water clogs up, I look down. Not again.
I reach in the drain and pull out the razor.
The water flows again, another fresh splint of blood, just oozing down my wrist.
Life has a meaning, but what is it?
Eventually the crying stops, the tears dry,
And the blood disappears until tomorrow.