My Knife

Came home after a bad day
needed someone to talk to.

Mommy's at work,
Daddy wouldnt understand.

Brother says "I dont care,"
Best friend not home.

Friend on the phone
with her boyfriend.

Ex just wants to hit it,
Cousin has betrayed me.

Nobody to talk to,
Nobody to confide in

What can I do
But cry and think.

But the more I think
The more I cry

And the more I cry
The more the knife looks good

So as good as that knife looks
It looks even better slicing my skin

I may not be able to confide
In friends and family

But I can confide
In my knife