Secrets

Sitting here getting high,
All I do is wait to die.
I used to care,
Now I don't dare.
I'm tired of acting like every thing's OK,
When in reality I'm trying to just get through the day.
I smile and talk like a normal teen,
But on the inside I'm just a cutting fiend.
But no one knows,
Yet on my arms it shows.

Can anyone give me ideas for a title for this poem??