well i am sitting here with the knife
desperate, and lonely, i'm gonna end my life
a cut here, a cut there
knife sharp enough to split hair

my body goes slack,
i fall on my back
it looks like an attack,
but it doesn't fade to black

i stop cutting after that attempt
cause i guess my death isn't meant
i meet her and feel wanted
but i am still haunted

from the ghost of my past
how long will this last?
the memories of that hell
the come back, and you can't tell

cause i keep my emotions hid
and bottled and boxed up, and sealed with a lid
i meet her, and its good for awhile
and then it is like being in trial

we break up, and i am alone
to my thoughts that have the same tone,
i am worthless
i am useless

so i am sitting here with this knife
ready to end my pathetic life
if not bound by a promise, blood i would lack,
but now it all fades to black