She took my heart and tore it apart.
She told me to die, little did she know it was my plan from the start.
She wanted this, she won't miss who I was.
She won't, because no one ever does.
She thought it was for attention, but I never told.
Now I'll be gone and regret she'll hold.

One cut for the words she said.
Two cuts for not being dead.
Three for the chance to end me.
Four and I'm finally free.
Five for the tears falling from my eyes.
Six for the endless cries.
Seven for the pain behind the smile.
Eight for going the extra mile.
Nine for the black clouding my eyes.
Ten for the mother who wishes her daughter dies.