Wondering Why

As I sit on my bed and wonder why,
Why you could never love me,
I burst into tears and start to cry.
But I see a razor and my tears are dried.
I take the razor and press it against my flesh.
I drag it across my arm.
I see the blood race out,
Knowing I have caused myself harm.
I think about it with no regrets.
I had to let out my pain.
But then I look at my scarred arm,
And suddenly I am ashamed.
No matter how hard I try to stop, I can't.
So I cut myself more and more.
I now have those feelings of regret.
I wish that things were like they were before.