They know you've done it before.
They know you'll do it again.
But still they push you.
They make fun of the way you live.
They try to make you cry.
But instead of tears coming out of your eyes,
Blood comes out of your veins.
It gives you a great adrenaline rush,
To see the blood pour out.
The pain you've held inside all day,
Is all of a sudden gone.
And yet tomorrow you'll go to school,
And even when they see your wrist
Slit to the bone,
They say that you are stupid
And make you feel even worse.
They know that it hurts you.
They know you'll cut again.
So why do they repeatedly make me feel like crap?
