As I sit in the corner,
Beliving every move is wrong,
A tear of love and hate flows down my face,
This thing clawing at my ears,
Dictating to me its every thought,
I sit there,
Taking in all the words,
Taking them into my soul,
I do not cry, Maybe I should,
I do not lie, Maybe I would be better off,
All this life I have been brought to belive I am nothing,
How can I find hope in this dark room?
Alone once again I begin to reach for the razor,
I look at the sharp but gental blade,
Not wanting to be here any longer.............
You would think I tried to kill myself,
NO,
that would only prove it right,
It can not break me down so easliy,
Not anymore.
I threw the razor, across the room and smiled when the beast came back wondering why I had not done it yet.
