why?
why did I do it?
why did I start what I stopped?
why did I think of the things I shouldn't have thought?

so there I was,
blade in my hand,
getting ready to cut again

you ask me why?
why is it that out of everything,
the cutting is the thing I find?
I know its hard to hide,
but I don't mind

the pain is the thing I need
I feel the pain again as I bleed
I need something I can control
please don't call me a fool

I know I relapsed
but telling you was the only thing I could do