My trusted death

I hold this knife close to my skin
i feel the metal cutting in
i watch as my deep blood flows
with it takes my woes
But soon these problems back again
once more the knife meets my skin
when one day i cut far too deep
in the distance i hear them weep
my body laid out across my bed
my sheets and blanket deepstain red
oh mother! i can hear your cries
and know the sorrow in your eyes
for you may not know but i stay near
listen close and you will hear
my laughter in the summer breeze
my teardrops on the window pane
for each shiver, down your spine
the knife is, again yet mine
even with your most tender touch
this pain i own is far too much
i reach once more to leave this strain
for with my blood it takes my pain
oh mother! can you hear my cries?
do you know the pain in my eyes?
for this knife, i know, has caused so much
but once more i reach and cut.