Cliche

I find it funny,
All the ways I came to hide,
Away from a world that is always sunny,
How you believed all my lies.

I would smile and laugh,
While in the dark would cry and cut.
Of the story I told only half,
Excluded my being stuck.

Long sleeved shirts and baggy sweaters,
Those helped hide me from inquiring glances.
I found myself bound with iron fetters,
I was too frightened to take chances.

"Tori what is that on your arm?"
"Oh these? I bathed the cat yesterday."
You never knew that I was causing myself harm,
My blood my way to pay.

I screwed up,
I ran away,
My tears could've filled up a cup.
Never heard anyones say.

And now I'm back where I began,
My razor my only friend,
My hopes overran,
With the razor's intention to kill.