End Of Me.

I am keeping to myself; I am hiding the pain,
Nobody knows that I am driving myself insane.
I do not know how long I can do this for,
How long will it be until I am lying unconscious on the floor?

Cutting has become the only thing I ever do,
Its how I hide from things; its how I forget too.
Its getting worse, as the cuts cover my arm,
But who really cares, if I cause myself this harm?

Its what I do when I want to forget how I feel,
Its a distraction when things get too real.
Its what I do when I want to hurt myself,
But I never mean to cause any pain to anybody else.

I just want things to end; I do not want to exist,
The pain feels so good when the blade glides over my wrist.
It sounds insane, but I hate myself too much to care,
I guess I really do not want to be here.

Nobody understand how Im feeling inside,
Nobody knows about my plans of suicide,
Things have gone back, to how they used to be,
I guess maybe this time; it will be the end of me.