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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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