It's funny to think that my whole life
suddenly revolves completely around a knife
every time i feel the need to cry
the knife silences me like a sweet lullaby
it's so very hard to fully explain
why i am so poetic about slicing my veins
however when i see the blood on the floor
it just makes me write more and more
such a serene, calming sight
to experience every single night
each and every one of my silent screams
continues to haunt every night's dreams
every time i dream of death
i stop and hold my breath
i just lie and close my dry eyes
wishing i could fly away; even die
but somehow i always stop and stay
here on earth for another painful day
and each attempt i make to stop by heart
tears my soul farther and farther apart
and as my eyes go from wet to dry
all i want to do is die
each time i continue or stay
i force myself to push my friends away
if only they knew the way i control
this deadly pain that haunts my soul
they might have shown how they cared
and maybe my life i would have spared
but now they will care, when I'm gone
they'll realize why i was so withdrawn
maybe they'll see this unbelievable pain
that i cannot possibly contain
for that is why i slit my veins
and covered myself in crimson rain
on the bathroom floor i will lie
and watch from above as they cry
i do not wish to cause them this pain
but this is my only option to stay sane
because every single day of my life
is run completely by that poetic knife
even though it may seem selfish of me
they can never fully see
how deceiving was my face
how i fully hated every day in this place
but as i give in to the knife
and it helps me take my own life
they will see this is the only way for me
to fully and completely set myself free
