I cut too deep
I hit a vein...

I hate myself
Hate my life...

When I'm with my mum
I'm always moaning...

*this is a poem i rote about cutting*
I told you I stopped...

I live in a prison
Thats what I call my home...

*I wrote this poem months ago but now I feel like...
I was born into your arms...

Today I did something bad
Now I wish I never had...

When I cry
they say it's fake...

I feel like I have no control
Over my life and what happens in it...

When I was crying, you wiped away my tears
When I was scared, you frightened away my fears...

If I died no one would miss me
No one loves me...

The knife is dropped
The skin is split...