As mascara stains my pillow,
I lay here tired and lost...

The blade is sharp against my wrist,
All it needs is a little twist...

I keep all this pain locked up inside,
I try to run i try to hide...

I always lie awake at night,
In the darkness, with no sight...

I cried my self to sleep last night,
it was sad but it felt true...

That knife is pretty, shinny and sharp
It stares at me mocks me lies there and laughs...

Grim faces of loved ones,
Silence worth a thousand tears...

No one talks about those days anymore,
did they ever really happen...