I've tried before

(if i stop myself,then this will just be a poem,and if i have the guts to do it again..)

I've tried before,
but i didn't succeed,
i just carried on,
wanting to bleed.
But that came to an end,
my parents found out,
they talked to me,
and started to shout.
The urge went away
but now it's come back,
i sit and shiver,
with a chill up my back.
staring into the emptiness,
thinking about that blade,
the pain i had,
and the scars it made.
I stop myself,
and fight once more,
I'm sorry i screamed,
as i ran out the door.
I didn't go far,
only to my backyard,
where i sit in silence,
watching my guard.
Hoping my anger ,
will stay inside,
but I'll just sit here,
crouching to hide.
I don't understand,
i thought i was better,
so why do i sit here,
writing this letter.
I swore to myself,
and said to my friends,
I'm myself again,
this pain will end.
So i carried on,
all happy and good,
but i get like this again,
i knew that i would.
It was only a matter of time,
before i wish i could die,
have a cut on my arm,
and starting to cry.
Hating myself,
and staying alone,
not wanting to be here,
stuck in this home.
feeling so helpless,
powerless to see,
that the problem is deeper,
deeper than me.
It can't be won,
this life is a fix,
no winners,
no losers,
too late,this is it.