I must confess,
her life's a mess...

She turns her head,
the blood drips red...

No one to stand beside,
all you can do is hide...

As I walk into the the dark
Not taking time to look back...

She thinks she's better than me,
But she's not...

This is a poem from me to you,
Don't skip around read all the way threw...

All I see are black and grays,
Says the cutter as she lays...