The pain that I do to myself physically is never as bad
As the pain I do to myself mentally
There is nothing that doesn’t make me sad
Even if it should make me glad to be alive I still curse the day I was born
I am constantly angry at every one my mere existence makes me mad
I take so many attempts at my life you’d think they’d have noticed by now
Are the cuts on my arm not enough?
Don’t you see that this pain I am going through is just the surface
They all think that my family does not affect me, that I am so tough
But they are all wrong I am not tough It all just a act
I can’t take this stuff
It just too much for me to handle
So I continue to cause myself pain
As the blood drops I cry to myself and wonder if thi8s will be the one
The one that makes it so that I will never feel this pain again

 
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