Well depression your that one,
you press upon me like a tone.
Bipolar you split my soul,
all I want is not to be foul.
     The both of you make me cry,
oh how you fill me with that word
die.

I welcome that cold feeling of metal,
that dipping of my beloved warm blood
petal.
Oh the harming of my hated self is alarming,
so why am I finding it nothing but calming.
the fear of the rope i'm starting to fight,
I try not to take lead the path of that bright light.