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 basis  
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