Pain

Is it pain when you cut?
Cut to bleed so you know you are alive,
Cut to feel something other then hate.
Hate from those who are supposed to be your friend.

Is it pain when you cry?
Cry for those who say those things,
Things that make you cut.
Cut to know you are you.

Is it pain when you die?
Die with that knife in your hand,
And a smile on your face.
Your face that they will never see again.

Is it pain when they come to see you at last?
When they see your face in their nightmares,
Nightmares caused by them being the reason you killed Yourself