Many nights i cry myself to sleep,
Tears flowing as i try not to cut too deep,
my tears don't compare to my hurt inside,
I cut and bleed until I'm satisfied.
I don't wanna scar but need to feel the pain,
My pain outside has to be more than within,
I crave the blade tearing open my bare skin,
I use a blade that is to dull to scar,
When the open wound and continuous blood begin to make me sick,
Theres another type of mutilation i pick,
I press the fiery hot lighter to my arm,
I like this way better because less people can see the harm,
My eyes become heavy from tears so i hold my wrist and rest my head,
I awake wishing i was dead.
