The tears slide down my face As the knife, scissors, or even a pen sharp enough comes down And leaves its mark on me And I enjoy it. Through the pain and tears I contort my face into a twisted smile. And for a moment, I feel good But then the blood starts pouring over Onto the floor. *Time to clean it up....
This is about a time when I cut a while ago. Don't worry, I don't cut anymore....although I want to