Cut

When the ones I love
Find me with cuts,
And say, don't; I love you,
It wrenches my guts.

When the scars on my arms,
Are uncovered and bare,
And my mother cries,
I'm filled with despair.

When my journal is read,
And then people know,
That I wish I would die,
Time seems to slow...

It hurts really bad,
When they cry for my pain,
When they cry for my blood,
Which I frequently drain...

I can't stand to hurt them,
But I can't stand myself,
I try to leave my knife
Alone on the shelf...

Why do they care,
For a failure like me,
They just see my good;
My bad they don't see.

I'd kill myself now,
But I've lost before,
I used to would do it,
But not anymore