What are knives?
They're cold and sharp.
They have the point,
Toend the life.
They're our weapons,
To show us our depression.
The knives were there,
To show our pain.
I cut myself,
With happiness.
My parents,
Wish I'd stop.
It's an addiction,
I can't stop.
It's like alcoholism,
To one that is sober.
My flesh says,
Stop.
But my mind says,
GO!
The blood drips.
To the floor.
My locked up self,
It's finally being released.
God's will,
I'll stop.
But we all know,
That's a lie.
I started to feel empty,
Inside my viens.
Soooner or later,
I will be no more.
I am fearless,
Though my heart beats fast.
I know that it's wrong,
But I need to do it.
Stop says mother,
Full of fear.
My death clock is ticking,
I don't care.
Soon I will become empty,
My soul rises.
Goodbye world,
My life was full of deadly surprises.
