I can't remember why someone would do this to themselves.
the cutting, the hating, the disapproval of myself.
maybe it's to punish myself for the problems I've caused
or maybe I'm a sadist that enjoys these sharp silver claws
i pick up the blade and start slicing away.
and the more i do the less my heart wants to stay
but i do it for the heart and everything is for her
when the red tears drip down i don't feel any hurt.
now i can't really say that this blood are like tears
because they suppress all of my pain and my fears.
with this being said at least i have this
at the end of a long hard day it's the blade that i miss
and with no one to talk to and to be there for me
I'll always have this blade that gives something to believe.
believe that I'm not alone. i have myself
the blood is to remind me that I'm human like everyone else.
so don't look down on me because my drug is a knife
because its the only anti-depressant i need in my life.
