Hurting deep down inside,
Trying to do nothing but hide,
All the sadness within,
All the pain therein,
Not knowing how to explain,
All the hurt and pain,
The thoughts running through my head,
As I sat there in my bed,
So that no-one would guess,
That i was dying from the stress,
So at home in my room,
And so no-one would assume,
I put a lock on the door,
I would sit there and cry on the floor,
But nothing could help, not even the tears,
The pain has been there all these years,
And now I needed a cure,
So I feel all pure,
So I picked up a knife,
And thought of self-harm,
And thought of ending my life,
I looked at my arm,
Clenched my fist,
Then cut my wrist,
I cut in that little crease,
It was such a huge release,
From my tension and from the pain,
All the feelings flowed out,
With the blood from my vains,
My head is now clear of self-doubt,
The skin all torn and red,
The feelings all locked up inside,
Now there all out of my head,
Now its only the scars that I have to hide...
