Blood, Black & Dry.

       Blood, Black & Dry

The knife slices through his chest,
and all that love he had to give,
spills out, down to the floor.

Gone is that crushing pressure,
replaced with rising red.
He traded one pain for another,
and suffocates in black.

Blood, 
black and dry,
it stains.

Stranded now,
in tainted memories.

He scrubs it away,
but they'll never fade.
He pulls out the blade,
bloody tally marks count the days...

For another wound,
he waits.

1, 2

This is my first rewrite. Here's the original.