would you comment on my rambled poem?

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Ripped from my soul beyond,
A promise to keep myself alive.
One did strive,
To never pull the knife cross my neck,
To slice my throat,
and leave me breathless.

No longer can I connect,
Reality with hallucinations.
Fear with focus,
Or lies above the truth.

Only blood,
Of my own could relive,
Neurotic state removed my head.
As the flowing red,
Turned to roses in my coffin.

I am dead.