Scared of planes,
Scared of heights...

They tell me to push them away
But I don’t know if I can...

Standing here at the edge of my knife,
Wondering whether this is my life...

I see a girl, hiding on the floor
I see an innocent look in her eyes...

I feel so sick of myself
Each time I look in the mirror...

I have a feeling inside of me
It makes me sick of myself...

And all she wants to do,
Is curl up into a ball...

Lying on the floor is a girl scarred till the end
She’s gone too far, she cannot mend...

How many times have I written this note?
How many times have I stood here with this knife...

She is the child,
Who sat on her own...

Looking up at the stars tonight
For some reason they’ve lost their beauty...

What’s the point in people saying
"No offense&quot...