Undefined.

I carve the lines into my wrist,
Pretty soon I won't exist.

I put my head down, pretend to sleep,
But instead, I sit and weep.

My arms are stinging, really bad.
Wow, Why am I just this mad?

Thoughts of suicide flood my mind,
I have to think of the right time,

I make fresh plans, write them down.
Maybe, I'll just try to drown

Putting the knife to my other wrist,
Cutting is something I can't resist

Watch the blood drip from the cut,
Watch my heart, come undone.