Hidden

At school I have friends
and the so called perfect life
but hidden underneath my sheets
is my dripping knife

I cannot talk to my old friends
they judge me way to fast
they just say stop its bad for you
or you future will have no past

The four or five times
are too much for me
how much longer I can go
well we'll have to see

I stopped for a while
I was so very relieved
but fell back in
with much more to grieve

My old friends never beside me
to talk about my life
to just have fun and hang with
or confront me about the knife

God I wish it was over
I just want to take a break
set down the tools for a while
and my life would be great