Bout me

I'm scared to look in the mirror,
for in my face i see fear.
for one day i'll cut to deep,
and the warm liquid will seep.
i have a problem thou,
i dont know how to stop the flow.
i bring the razor to my delicate skin,
to make a slice so thin.
i see my life pass before me,
from this habit am i free?
as i drift to the sky,
on the floor my body just lies.
my body has turned cold,
in the paper my story is told.
it reads...
A girl with to many needs.
A girl with so much pain,
Thought she had nothing to gain.
Family and friends are sad!
But at her i am mad.
She thought of no one when she did the deed,
Now her obituaries we do read!