Tell me I'm doing something wrong

She wonders, she wonders, whats the point of life?
How come I'm alone, and my only friend's the knife?
Why me, why me, why not another girl?
How come it seems like I'm alone in the world?
Why do I need to feel the blood pour?
How come no one says "Don't do it anymore"?
Why doesn't anyone notice, when I'm feeling blue?
Why don't someone just say "It's not me, its you"?
Since the problem seems to be me, why not let it show?
Why not just tell me I'm wrong, and then I at least know?
How come no one cares, whats so wrong with me?
Tell me that I'm doing something wrong, and then I might be free.