tonight's not that night

I wrote this about a book character and mainly posted this because it's a milestone in my change of style. It's the first poem I have tried this kind of style. Feedback is welcomed :)

a sharp knife on young skin
little tracks of blood so thin
only now is when he smiles
opening himself up - that's what thrives

music gets louder
cuts get deeper
one night it all stops and ends
he already promised his friends

tonight's not that night
why would it, right?
when it stings so sweetly it's mad
how can they say it's wrong and so very bad?

red lines on his skinny arm
stopping right before his palm
through heavy rain, burning sun
he only wants his blood to run

he has never wished to leave forever
they don't get how this makes it better
he's met the line between bad and good
his mother raised no fool

but they don't get him now
how could they even, how?
he doesn't have a "story" to explain
his "reasons" float in the cold air

he needs no pity or attention
the worst you can offer him is protection
he'll grow older, change one day
today's not that day

knife follows the vein beating in his arm
showing the true meaning of self-harm
tip of paradise breaks in

the blade becomes one with him.