Me.

I'm useless
theres no point of me
i cut myself everyday
and I'm not who i want to be

i act different
and try to be someone else
hide my feelings
so no one noes how i felt

i always ware long sleeves
so nobody can find out
what i did that day
and what it was about

i don't want them to no
its not like there going to care
i only have one friend
the knife i use thats always there

the knife that doesn't tell
what happened and why i did it
people wouldn't care
about suicide and why i committed it

no one truly likes me
deep down inside
they don't even no the true me
cause everything i hide

they say they hate me
they call me a s.kan.k
when they don't even no the first thing about me
they don't even no that my smiles all fake

i just do it so they cant see
beneath my big green eyes
beneath my painful tears
the ones i always cry

my tears do have sympathy
not like all the rest
i use them when i need them
when my feelings aren't the best

i don't really like crying
but i really love the knife
the thing that makes my arms bleed
and helps me get threw life

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