It's difficult....

I want to cut
but i cannot
although i crave it
i must demolish the thought

for if i cut
my scars will not fade
soon enough so that
in the ocean, i can wade

you see, summer is coming
and a swim suit i will wear
it will expose my thighs
therefore they must be bare

they cannot show my pain
they cannot show my lies
and so i cannot cut
until the summer dies

but when next autumn comes
and the sun is left behind
i know my trusty knife
is what my hand will find

my fingers will guide the blade
to my thighs and across my skin
and when i see the blood
my addiction will again begin

(but i am having trouble waiting
until that censurable day arrives
because it almost feels as though
the cuts are what keep me alive

though it's somewhat contradictory
since the cuts could kill me too
for if i bleed too much
my life could soon be through...)

*Yeah, i should have ended it after the addiction part, which is why the rest is in parenthesis. Oh well. Please vote/comment if you have a spare second, i would really appreciate it. Thanks!*