Cutting is my counseling
my only way of life
to feel the rush of adrenalin
as i pick up the knife
the pain that comes is like a drug
I'm always wanting more
this is my closely guarded secret
held behind my bedroom door
no longer can i take this pain
no more my soul can take
no longer can i fake this smile
i have to have a break
but not a two week holiday
or a vacation by the sea
i mean a permanent place
somewhere i can become free
death my long awaited Saviour
waiting patiently at my door
has herd my desperate plee for help
that i cant take it no more
so when i say I'm sorry
sorry for picking up the knife
you should know i don't really mean it
i chose to end my life.
