you have seen them,
lining my arm,
you never thought i'd do such a thing,
causing so much harm,
especially to myself,
but the truth has been wrote,
its a twisted melody,
a day by day symphony,
sickening me,
im afraid of myself,
now i cant cut the skin,
cause they will now be seen,
when they were hidden it didnt matter,
but now you know the real me,
no, i didnt stop,
that wouldnt do me justice,
i still cut the warm skin,
right below the surface,
now i cut where you cant see,
but 'you' will never know,
at least this is what i think,
when im desperate i go for the blade,
but i hear your voice saying 'no' in my head,
a screaming plea, a screaming parade.
i did it again
right on the warm skin,
the swelled up cut; i trace
i run my finger up and down it,
blood no longer runs,
to think that i was once happy,
is such a fictional fairytale,
that i can never dream.
by; me: thingsishouldhavesaid.