I hate it when people ask about the cuts and scratches on my arms
When they dont understand that their the ones who put me at a risk of dying
So all i can do is cover my arms
And go home crying
I hate it when people ask why
I'm crying
All I can do is feed them some messed up lies
I wish i could tell them what really happens
About how my dad hits me, but they will just say I'm lying
I hate when people ask why Im always depressed
I just try to ignore them the best i can
Then wind-up even more messed up and depressed
They just don't understand
I go through this everyday
I wish all the questions would go away
They put me through so much pain
I wind up crying
I don't see any gain
I feel like dying
