Without A Sound

Cut, but not too deep, and cry, but not too loud.
Screaming at the top of my lungs, but not really making a sound.
I won’t let anyone see me cry, I know they won’t understand.
I make sure when I cut I hide it all, even the blood stains on my hand.
I hide my razor under my pillow, and let it haunt my dreams.
But I make sure I’m the only one who hears my screams.
I wear long sleeves and cover-up to hide all my mistakes.
Nobody should ever know, until it’s much too late.
I disguise my pride in blackened eyes, and never let it show.
I hold my head high when I cry, and I’ll be the only one to know.
I’ll never show anyone my pain, I know it wouldn’t help.
They’re all way too happy to feel the things I’ve felt.
I know I’m all alone, I can’t even try to pretend.
The only way out of this is to make it the end.
So in the black of the night, I make myself proud.
I cut much too deep, but I die without a sound.