What if you only had a few days,
Only a few days left to live,
What would you do,
Would you stay up in your room,
Or make them the best,

Would you stay at home with your family,
The ones who don't see,
Or be with your friends,
Who said they would be there till the very end.

She paints a pretty pitcher,
But the pitcher has a twist,
Her paint brush was a razor,
And her canvas was her wrist.

I trace my scars every day,
Wonder why I have made this mistake,
I wish people could understand all my pain,
So they would know the next day,
I just know that I can get through,
But it's harder to see you.