My mOtHeR dUg My GrAve

She looks down and sees,
a razor in her hand,
she doesn't know how it got there,
she doesn't understand.

She looks down and watches,
as blood flows from her wrist,
she stares in confusion,
her blood curls and twists.

She looks down and cries,
and her tears burn her skin,
she doesn't know why she does this,
she never seems to win.

She looks down and hears,
her heart suddenly stop,
her mother comes in and sees,
she wipes the blood up with a mop.

Her mother looks down and sees,
the razor in her hand,
she sighs, this girls a trouble,
her blood drips down like sand.

Her mother bends down to pick her up,
she moves her to a grave,
her mother doesn't want her here,
her life she won't save.

Her mother piles the dirt on top,
then goes to clean the mess,
she doesn't even say goodbye,
she couldn't care less.

Her mother said she ran away,
her mother said a lie,
her mother put on a fake act,
she even faked a cry.

My mother let me run away,
she let me leave to hide,
a razor in my hand tonight,
is like I'm on a ride.

I'm glad I finally left that place,
now I'm free to roam,
I cut and died to leave my life,
and that place that was called my home.