A cut

Tears well in her eyes
She glares at the blade
Will she do it again?
Yes, her decision is made
She rests the knife upon her wrist
Her anger turns to fear
With a shaking hand she inflicts the wound
And for her broken heart she sheds a tear.
As blood trickles down her arm
She asks herself why
'If my lifes so goddamned perfect,
why do I cut, why do I cry?
Counting the scars carved in her skin
Theres a guilty feeling inside
Yes, shes done it again
Just another scar to hide