I look in the mirror, doing the samemotions each day, I ask myself, does it get better, being this way? I look longingly at my knife, I would do anything to stop the fights. But my wrists are now covered in red, As I sigh and lay on my stained bed. The darkness never leaves my heart, And as I let a tear out, I know it's tearing me apart. I'm tired, I want it all to end, It's not as if I even have at least one friend. Let me die, I beg, I plead, My own Father told me to leave. My wrists are covered in scars, And I long to belong in someone's arms. It's all thanks to you, And no one has a clue...

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