Wondering

Everyday life taken
For granted how
Could I. The Razor blade
Almost cost me mine
I lost friends and
Family to various forms
Of the suicide monster
Yet I wake up everyday
And I can only sit
And think how life
Could be with out me
My son keeps the monster
At bay yet it seems to look
At me no matter where
I go its Like an echo
Of the past fighting
To become my future
At one time no matter
how much help I had
I felt I needed
To cut in order to feel
But what about Those
Who's wounds have never healed
I still feel sad for them
And made my stand
Not to be those who've fallen
It seems so hard but
Then again when
Is life easy or fair?