Brave

I sit in silence, with marks on my wrist, the burns on my hand and the pills in my fist.

I'll do anything to die, because living is killing me slowly.
you call me a coward but i think I'm quite brave. i get up everyday and try to live life, but something always draws me back to the knife.

you only get it, if you've gone through it, and if you haven't your no one to judge.

you call me a coward but i think I'm quite brave. because i don't have the perfect life, and i try to survive with my knife, lighter and pills, not die! i get up everyday knowing i hate life!