Each cut goes deeper,
With every slice I make.
All the scars and memories,
Are fresh on my mind,
Even if they happened when I was 2
My mother has left me,
With horrible memories,
Of what see done,
And forced me to do.
I cut enough to make me bleed,
For bleeding is my way of explaining,
The way in which i feel,
The saddness and grief i suffer,
This saddness and despair,
Only tells me that my life is shit,
So then i cut away my fears,
To let my pain seep away,
Through the open wounds I make,
I never slice enough to kill,
Just enough to let my pain escape,
Until one day when I cut too deep,
And blood pours without stopping.

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