I do not mean to do it

As tears stream down
my broken face
My heart is racing cannot slow
down the pace.

The wet depression
drips down my arm
to touch my wrist
which counts the numours times
the blade hit.

Tears and blood
stream through my veins
They cause that bitter-sweet
sort of pain.

The pain deepens
the depression stays
in my vein
the jaggered knife lays.

You say you do not
know why she does it
why she points a knife into her arm
but remember i cant help
but resort to self harm.

You will never understand
why this young girl has to suffer
why its her life and not yours
why God made hers a lot tuffer.

So as i lay in my bed
wishing and praying that i was dead
so no longer would i feel the hurt
no more would i hear the whispers
in my head.

So God tonight please her my call
please help me do not just sit back
and watch me fall.

The blades are calling out
fighting to win
and i do not know how much
longer i can take it
I soon just might again give in.