When I cut my wrists
I ask God, "Why me?"
Why do I have a life
full of hate and lies.
Why can't I be the
perfect girl he wants
me to be?
I stare in the mirror,
And see right through.
The only thing showing is
my green eyes full of tears.
I take another cut
And I sit on the floor
I ask myself to hurt no more
But it never seems to work.
I want to be loved by the boy
who stole my heart..
I don't want to sit and cry,
and take another cut.
But nothing goes the way I want
So i sit in the dark and cry.
Might as well take another cut
to ease away the pain.
I'll never be perfect for him,
nor will I be perfect for me.
