Paint me a picture,
Paint it with my blade...

Sing a song of happiness,
A pocket full of blades...

Get out of my life,
I can deal with my own problems...

We can make each other laugh,
Spend every minute making dreams...

It's been a month,
Since i last made a mark...

Dressed in black clothing,
With long sleeves covering my scared arms...

Dear Little Child.
Dear Little Child...

As the saddened summer dew falls from my cheeks,
The blade moves silently upon my wrist...

I have so much to tell you,
But it can never be said...

I'm falling to pieces,
Because this sadness won't go away...

It's my fault he's yelling,
And my fault he's storming about...

~i wrote this poem to tell my brother how i feel...
To see you so happy...