Hurr ya go..

Friends,
i thought,
but they just rat you out.

Boys,
we talk,
they always make me pout.

Flirty,
i am,
but in a sense demanding.

Always,
first-hand,
am i to try things.

I bleed,
through tears,
and no one will ever know.

Why,
i don't,
let these feelings show.

Home,
is safe,
and i could do what i want.

In the real world,
theres hate,
and i am pushed to flaunt.

I act,
myself out,
i can do anything i want.

I can be,
someone else,
anyone i want.

But in the end,
as much as i try,
i am really me.

I'm now,
just trying,
to make everyone see.

I am a normal person,
not Wonder woman,
though i try to help you,
i cant do anything on demand.

I cut myself to know,
that i am still alive,
thats the only way i know,
the only way i can hide.

When someone else does it too,
and i try to help,
it doesn't quite work out,
because i do it myself.

Cutting is an addiction,
not just a hobby,
its not something you can do,
and quit as easily.

So my friends,
who i thought,
that i once had,
heres to being cool,
heres to being rad.

I'm now going to say,
your the cause of this,
your the source of my pain,
why i have scars upon my wrists.

But then again,
i am only lying to myself,
you friends couldn't have done it,
without some major help.

My family has given problems,
and we can surely do without,
but those are the reason i cut me,
not to single anyone out.

So when you feel like stabbing me in the back,
just realize,
i am so much stronger,
and i cant put up with stupid lies.

I wont hesitate,
to put you on the spot,
Oh no i wont cut because of you,
I'll just beat you up.

** Dani **