The pressure building in my chest,
Pain that I cant put to rest.
I want to scream this isn’t fair,
I scratch my arm, the skin wont tear.
The pressure grows; I'm gunna burst...
Unless I can release it first.
I stumble for the bathroom door,
I trip, and crumple to the floor.
I look up, through the haze of tears,
I see my target, and worst of fears.
But I reach and grab it nonetheless,
A razor, nice and clean and fresh.
The razors cheap, so blades break lose.
A sharpened blade for me to use.
My skin that at first wouldn’t break,
Is left torn and bleeding in its wake.
The pressure ebbs out through my vain,
Until the cuts rid me of my pain.
Some turn to drugs, and others drink,
But I can clean my medicine in the sink,
So I can use it next I need,
To ease the pain, that need to bleed.
Few others truly understand,
And many just cant comprehend.
No, I'm not proud, but I won’t stop.
Until my spirits cease to drop.
So please don’t judge, and please don’t hate,
Unless you can make it go away.
That’s all I want,
That’s all I crave,
Is to rid myself,
And start a new day.