This knife I hold within my hand,
No longer listens to my command.
As it cuts into my skin,
I do not think of what can begin.
The crimson liquid rolls down my arm,
No one knows I?ve down so much harm.
As it streams down to my finger tips,
I start to bite my quite lips.
There?s nothing to say,
I do it every day.
This knife I hold has become my only friend,
It?ll be the only one with me till the end.
I know I can rely on my knife,
To over power my pain and strife.
