Sleep tight little angel.
Sleep tight my sweet nightingale.
Let the dark cast over you.
Let your body decide what to do.
Curled up and asleep.
Dry your tears that you no longer weep.
Stay strong my young love.
Don't cry my white dove.
I know it's hard.
I know I cut my wrists with a shard.
Shard from the mirror I looked into.
I am insecure.
Never really here.
I'm too fat.
I scratch my skin until I scream stop doing that.
Dried blood lines my wrists.
All my friends ask why I wear long sleeves.
Maybe someday they will see.
Red lines.
Ever so fine.
Tears in my eyes.
Tears as my soul cries.
Yes people love me.
Something I can barely see.
Her touch is healing.
The only good feeling.
But until then I cry.
And die inside.