The days grow older
my depression hits rock bottom
the thoughts of cutting racing though my head again
Letting the jagged blade slide gently across my old scars.
Just one more time, just deep enough
to get that rush that made me feel so high.
Yet as the days get older
My depression still at rock bottom
nothin harder that taoday
I was expected to pay for my parents family
I lied, I need a 2nd time to feel that high but this time I plan to die.
I let that jagged blade slide gently on my old a scars.
Teasing myself again,letting the blood trickle out of the the wounds that I created
I push even harder
splitting the flesh wide open
seeing the blood drip into the carpet
infront of my parents room.
I start to run
I see how deep i cut
I see the wounds
I think i'm doomed
My mind is gloomy
My body is week
but I don't care
I can't wait tell i'm 6 feet deep.