You discovered something
new, an act of self abuse.
You took a razor and made
a little cut, never knowing
what was going to start.
You made one little slit
across your pale, white
wrist. It was just one
at first but it soon
led to five, then ten.
you kept cutting to have
some fun, but you never
knew the harm it had
done. As soon as you
grabbed that razor, it
went everywhere you
did. Where ever your
went, you were looking
for somewhere to go and
get away. That razor
became your life. Your
best friend didn't matter
anymore, all you wanted
to do was cut again and
again. When you had a
chance to get help, you
turned it away and let
yourself down. Your life
could of been turned
around. You didn't
care at all, you just
wanted yo cut too deep
and end it right away.
One day you did cut too
deep, and you were put in
an eternal sleep. All along
you just needed a friend
to be there until the end,
but you turned them all
away. When you realized
you cut too deep, you
knew you were going to
die so you sat there and
cried. Because deep down
under all the blood, you
wanted to live not die.
