With the knife i try and wrestle,
all i'm trying to do is pop a little blood vessle.
This way people will listen to what i have to say,
I don't want to risk it tomorrow or any other day.
The knife has always been my friend,
the self mutilation of what i depend.
To all those that really care,
lifes the one that gave me the dare.
The blood runs smoothly down my arm,
you can no longer save me from harm.
Maybe i'll go to a better place,
where there won't be pink flowers or lace.
So i'm taking my life so i can die,
cause i don't want to keep wondering why.
Why was i chosen to life like this,
the arguements inside i'll never miss.
Noone see's the pain i hate,
this is it my final fate.
 
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