I lock my bedroom door,
with such fear,
Fear of too much blood,
but do they see my tear?
I hold my razor,
close to my skin,
push it into my wrist,
because of my heartbreaking sin!
I can't scream,
or someone will know.
They"ll lock me up,
never let me go!
The blood drips on the floor,
and it keep with it's flow.
I tried to stop it,
but it's my time to go!
I drop the razor,
look at the picture above my wall.
I try to forget my problems,
and how I want to fall!
The scares now remind me,
of what I held in the past.
The pain of living,
and it always seemed to last!
My life was getting better,
but now I am back to my heartache.
Thinking about cutting,
Just taking a brake.
So I pull out my blade,
hold it to my skin,
thoughts running through,
and now my bad habit that I must begin!