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I feel like dying,
I’m going to give up on trying,
Why should I?
All you do is ignore my
Cries for help,
What did you think cutting was? Not just a welt.
I didn’t slice my wrist for attention,
Not just to cause you tension,
No, I did it to feel,
To try and heal,
It didn’t work the first time, that’s why I’m doing it again,
I don’t want to be ashamed; it’s not a sin,
Then tell me why,
I hide my arms like I’m shy,
You’re the man with the answers,
Cutting isn’t an enhancer,
It’s more of a distraction,
Like a new kind of reaction,
That I have now that my mom’s in the ground,
Safe and sound,
Away from all pain,
Leaving me with nothing to gain,
Not a hug or a smile,
So now I’m in denial,
Feeling alone and numb,
I’m not dumb,
Just a little scared,
I wish you cared,
But it doesn’t look like you do,
You’re not true,
You act like she never existed,
How could you be so twisted?
She was 16 years of your life!
So I push this knife,
Into my skin,
Again and again,
For the lack of emotions,
That make up for your loss of any notions,
In my own life,
So again I push this knife.