Ok. It's obvious where the "Madness" comes from, but where does the "Blashemy" part come in at in your poem?

                      Bleed


She has many problems.
Family troubles, friendship woes, boyfriend issues.
Deep depression and feeling worthless.
All the symptoms of a cutter.

If all her friends and family
knew, then they wouldnt let her.
She is unaware of the danger.

She doesnt care that she is alive.
Doesnt realize it's a wonderful gift to live.
On the ouside she is naive.
But if she keeps this up,
it's doubtful that she will survive.

Right now she is fretting.
All of these problems are getting depressing.
Her friends' pleas aren't suppressing
much of the pain or guilt she is feeling.

She is curled up in the fetal position.
Laying on her bed crying in her bedroom.
Praying that she will feel better sometime soon.
She gets up and walks past the backroom.
And she goes into the bathroom.

Stands in front of the sink and takes a razor.
Grabs a knife of just the right length.
She doesnt know that this knife,
might eventually end her life.

They say to a cutter,
it's more addicting than meth.
She cuts at the usual depth.
But one wrong move,
if she cuts an artery it's certain death.

When she cuts herself,
she doesnt feel so numb.
But come on girl, its just plumb dumb!
First she cuts her thumb.
Sometimes while she does it,
she will actually start to hum.

She watches the blood
from the cut ooze out in a rush.
Her cheeks start to blush,
She loves the mad rush she gets
as she watches the blood now gush.

She bleeds just to know she is alive.
Loves the intensity, 
it fills her with such bliss and ecstasy.
It sends her into her own
world of sacred fantasy.

She has this need to feed the craving.
Everytime she makes herself bleed
she feels as if she is freed.
Now she clenches her hand into a fist.
As the blade kissed her wrist.

As she slit her wrist,
now her teeth begins to grind and grit.
With each slice it feels so nice.
She lets the blade seep down deep.
She feels the pain begin to creep.

Cutting close to a vein, but the pain
seems to release her from all her blame and shame.
But she cut too far under the surface.
And now falls to silence.
An expressionless face.
Why did it have to come to this sacrifice?

She fell down on the floor.
Now there is knockin and bangin on the door.
Sirens wailing, family and freinds crying.

The saddest part behind all her pain, sorrow and confusion.
Is that so many of the people that loved and cared
for her that she left behind.

It's a shame, there is no going back.
There is no rewind.
She was so kind, she should be right here.
Next to us smiling and laughing.
But all we have left of her
are the memories left behind,
deep in our hearts and stored in our mind.