The knife just tends to win!

There she sits so helpless,
just waiting for that special day,
the day she set aside,
when she'll take her life away.

up until that day,
she'll screw her life up more,
taking all the drugs,
and cutting like before.

stories of her messed up life,
are written on her skin,
keeping count of all the times,
the knife just tends to win.

scarlet scars upon her wrists,
tell of all the times,
she tried to go but something stopped,
her suicidal crimes.

her blood shot eyes tell of all,
the countless times shes cried,
she has no more tears to cry,
so her end she will decide.

as that day comes around,
when her precious life she'll take,
she'll bring up all the pain inside,
and one more cut she'll make.

never will she stop to think,
off all the people she will miss,
you can call it ignorance,
but ignorance is bliss.

as she starts to think about,
the story of her life,
she wants to end it faster,
just to end all her strife.

she curls up in the corner
and she begins to cry
all the while the voices whisper,
just go and f u c k i n g die.

mascara tears leak from her eyes
and stain her pale face,
trailing down her satin cheeks,
depression lines they trace.

she sinks her nails down in her arm,
as she begins to shake,
substituting physical pain,
for the pain from her heart ache.

as she slowly falls apart,
she starts to crave her blade,
she takes it out and wastes no time,
to add to the cuts shes made

she drags the blade along her skin,
as she watched the blood pour out,
she feels control run through her body,
and the voices cease to shout.

she puts away her razor blade,
with no sign of regret,
she knows she'll do it again,
for the pain she cant forget.

and as she starts to breath again,
and her shaking finally stops,
her weak and fragile body,
goes to her bed and drops.