Even though we argued constantly,
Even though I hardly ever saw you,
Even though I know she's better for you,
Even though we've both moved on,

You should know,
That I really miss you.

I know I have some problems,
Depression could be one.
Feeling so low I just cope,
But I know I can't tell mum.

Self-harming has occurred a few times,
As you may guess, it is my release,
You may look down or be ashamed,
But it is the only way I am set free.

The scars I own remind me,
Of the secrets that I hold.
But as you judge the wounds upon my arm,
It is a dark story that could be told.

One other is my eating,
Which is one that only a few will know.
But this is one of my deepest issues,
That has affected me greatly, so,
Although I may not be able to have children,
Or lead a long happy life as I've wished,
I've still created the most remarkable memories,
Replacing the opportunities I've missed.

I do not have the best life,
But I do not have the worst.
And even though it has been a struggle,
I am blessed for the journey I've had.

Sometimes I see that flash back again,
With the bubbles of blood that burst.
The wounds are deep,
I still don't stop,
Continuing to slash at the flesh that appears on my arm.

I don't feel any pain,
But I feel so calm,
The anger and sadness released.
When I eventually manage to stop myself ripping at my skin,
I glance down to see the engravings on my arms.
My sight begins to be unclear and blurry,
As the darkness and sadness returns.

'What have I done' I whisper,
As the hurt I felt returned.
I hung my head in shame,
But the desperation appears again.

I try to fight the guilt I feel,
To stop me from doing it.
'It's no use fighting' I whimper,
And hack at new flesh again.

I'm tired of feeling alone.

I want to scream out all my anger.
I want to cry out all my sorrow.
I want to throw away the pain that lingers around me in the darkness.

I want to feel wanted.
I want to feel loved.
I want to not look down at my arm and see all the bad memories that haunt me.

I want to forget about the past.
I want to feel cared about.
I want one chance to be noticed.

I don't want to be invisible.
I don't want to be afraid.
I don't want to be invisible.

I want you.

Do you ever get that feeling,
When nobody really cares?
When the darkness that surrounds you,
Becomes more than just a scare.

Feeling lonely is more than what you think,
Having nobody there to talk to, Having nobody there to cuddle,
Or having nobody there to wipe your tears away.

Loneliness brings unhappiness,
And unhappiness brings the idea of not wanting to survive.
I don't really see a point,
And sometimes that seems more than just an option.

I used to feel so loved,
Having caring people by my side.
But no one knows my secret,
The one I keep hidden up inside.

The story of my scars,
Is one that only a few people know.
For nobody else has cared enough,
To stop me feeling low.

'Stop being so depressed' they'd say.
Their harsh words jabbed at me.
Ever since those painful few months,
Everyone has drifted apart from me,
And now I'm sat here on my own.

Do you ever get that feeling,
When nobody really cares?
When the darkness that surrounds you,
Becomes more than just a scare.