Reasons

If I let you in on this little secret of mine,
you promise not to tell?
On my wrist I made a deep scratch, kind of a line,
on it, his name I spelled.
I sliced my wrist clear to the bone.
Now this morning after my skin drained pale,
my true depression is shown.
I dont want to go into detail
but let me say, you are the reason I cry.
You are the reason I make myself bleed.
You are the reason my wrist runs dry.
I hate that you do this to me
but what else can I do
when I find reasons to bleed
I feel like im being touched by you