Last year I wanted to **** myself This year I don't want too I just want to hurt myself. Slit my wrists and watch the blood rip down my hands Feel the sizle of wrapping my wounds Daddy asked me the other day what I filter when we're talking He says I don't filter what comes out of my brain He says he knows me better than I know myself He says that this is what he went to school for. If he knows me so well, why did I go so long feeling that way If he knows me so well, why did I feel like I could **** myself Why did I try to **** myself and he didn't even know Why when I told him that I was slitting my wrists he laughed in my face Why didn't he notice anything at all He says i'm a bad liar, but I have lied my way through every conversation we've had the genuine true real me. The feelings that I feel on a daily basisΒ Β He will never know, because the facade, the mask that I put on every morning is so realistic you would think that's my face. The only thing keeping me from leaving this earthly plane is not the fear of death, but what my death would do to him, my mother. My brothers I haven't tried to hurt myself in 3 months Summertime is keeping me clean How I will survive the winter I do not know the long sleeves of fall Give me every reason to fall back into the hole I was in not too long ago But the guilt The shame The lies That's what holds me back