I blame myself,
For things that go wrong,
It may not be my fault,
But I feel as though it is,
So I may cut my wrists a few times,
Just to make myself bleed,
No matter what way I cut,
It doesn't matter,
I won't die,
Its just to make a mark,
For this feeling to escape,
People hide knives and blades from me...
But I find them...
Then I use them...
You can't stop this from happening,
It will always be there,
So as for now.......
I only cut to bleed.

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