Cut Deeper and Deeper

Cut deeper and deeper,
til' your emotions revealed,
cut deeper and deeper,
And your arms, never healed
Cut deeper and deeper til' the bad fades away,
you tell yourself you'll stop,
one day ... one day

The guilt fill after the happiness dims,
Like a tidal wave breaking over you; the happiness just the brim

The blood meanders down your defenceless arm,
Thus telling your body,
Be at a calm
It drizzles down your wrists,
And into your palms

Oh the burning pain and desire,
To re-kindle that self harm fire
But we mustn't
We must not give in,
But self harm, is it that much of a sin?

You patch yourself up,
That's when the guilt settles in,
You see the blood
On the desk, the chair
It settles in
Your soul, your sin

You pick up the blood stained tissue,
It's flinged to the bin
You hear footsteps on the landing,
Some one coming in!
You brush away the tears,
Pull your long sleeves down
You turn around and see them there
Staring at you; looking down

They send you to a Clinic
They give you a leaflet
You bin it
They say they want to help you,
They say you need it,
But what the hell do they know?!
But your mother says:
"You HAVE to go!"

You arrive,
Dressed all in black
You give them a look
That says "please, cut me some slack".
They bring you in,
And sit you down
Watching your every move
Scribbling it all down

They make you feel unwanted,
They make you feel alone,
They make you the hand with out the glove
The dog, without the bone.

They make you into a charity case,
They say "we feel it to"
But no they don't,
cause there's emotions...

So confused

At last it's over,
And your mum has a quick chat,
You look down at yourself in disgust
And say "I'm fat"
Next thing you know you're in the car, going home
Hoping that your "problem" from here on, will be left alone

You sit at home by the phone,
Waiting for that someone who said they'd call,
They didn't,
You feel a crash and a fall,
Tears start to brim in your eyes,
As you run up to your room,
Run up to the happiness, and away from the gloom
You swing open the door, and burst into tears,
As your little blue box with flowers nears.

You flip up the lid of your box, and horror strikes
The razors,
The pencil sharpener
The scissors,
The blades?
Soon your premeditated happiness fades

You tear into the en-suite to look what is there,
In the way of sharp objects, the bathroom is bare
Next stop, your mothers room,
Just past the stairs,
You open the door,
Stand there and stare,
A pale razor on the dressing table
Looking bored,
It longed to cut,
... Lived for more