Sitting in English
The teacher telling me i need to keep up with the class
I suddenly cant handle it
And from my back pack i grab my glass
I ask if i can go to the bathroom
I get there and lock myself in the stall
I pull the glass across my wrist
Digging in deeper trying to forget it all
Blood drips freely from my arm
I get this twisted pleasure from just the sight
I don't cover my wrist i let the blood fall
Even though i know what I'm doing isn't right
During seventh hour
I forget all about the same mark
Talking to the teacher i know she sees
But she pushes it into the dark
i know that no one cares
I know that my mistakes don't matter
I will cut my wrist one last time
And on my floor my blood will splatter
