Story of a Cutter

You found out that I was a cutter,
You tell me that I should stop,
Of course you wouldn't understand.
All the pain I've felt for years,
I waited for you to be there,
Like you promised you would,
But you never were.
Of course you wouldn't understand,
the pure bliss I feel when the cool blade of the razor slides across my wrist.
When I cut,It makes me feel good,
it makes me alive and in control of my messed up life.
A funny thing about this is that I used to care and love,but not anymore.
I have you and that bastard I call father for that.
For 3 of my 15 years I have cut and you were either too busy having sex or drinking to notice.
You tell me that I should stop,that I can't keep hurting myself,
But the truth is that I can't and won't stop,
For you or anybody else.
If you can't accept that I cut ,
maybe you should start yourself.