Please...

Don't tell me that I'm pretty;
becuase I know I'm really not
Don't tell me that I'm special;
when its not true
Don't tell me that I'm not fat;
when I know I am

Please...

Don't tell me that you love me;
because I know it isn't real
Don't tell me that you care for me;
because its all a lie
Don't tell me that you notice me;
when you leaving me all alone

But now my life is ending, I've lost all have, ending it now, is the only
solution I see.

As I hold the knife, on my wrist, I prepare to cut, and watch myself bleed,
dying slowly.

So, please before I go...

Tell me that I'm pretty;
so I can hear it one more time
Tell me that I'm special;
so I can hear it one more time
Tell me that I'm not fat;
I believe you this time

Please...

Tell me that you love me;
I know now its for real
Tell me that you care for me;
If you didn't, you wouldn't try stopping me
Tell me that you notice;
which now I see is true

And just to hear you say these things, makes me happy

But I'm sorry...I must go...and as I slit my wrist, and feel the pain

I slowly close my eyes, and with the last breathe, I say I'm sorry, to
everyone I hurt

And I want you to know, that I now believe, everything you've said...
 
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