The tip of the blade
Runs through my veins...

It’s been a month and a half
Since I last...

How can you fall
if you're already on the ground...

When I look at myself in the mirror
I never see a happy, beautiful girl...

Last night I fell asleep dreaming of you
Thinking and admiring you...

*this is a poem i rote about cutting*
I told you I stopped...

Every night
When I'm in bed...

*I wrote this poem when I was really pissed of at...
You're the one who gave me life...

Cutting is my drug
I cant live without it...

Every morning I wake up
Dreading the thought of going to school...

When I'm with my mum
I'm always moaning...

I live in a prison
Thats what I call my home...