crying my own little heart out,
watching the clock tick by the time,
i sit here, alone,'
waiting for a better tomorrow.

sometimes life is only so painful,
yet you cannot do anything about it,
no one to take it out on,
and the only person who can take all your pain is
yourself.

but you are weak,
nothing,
gone!

so i try and say goodnight,
while dragging this blade across my skin.
i watch my skin bleed,
and start to feel a slight sting,
to a tear in my eye.
you may think i cry for the pain,
yet i am mearly only morning for my own inner pain.

better dead than alive,
sometimes i already feel dead,
then other times,
more alive than the world itself.
i only cut to feel alive,
and other times to calm down.

i also do it,
to escape from death.
from a sweet-sweet suicide.
but no, i cannot die yet,
my life forbids me to...

but last time i cut,
someone knew,
and cried out of fear,
like a young child.

i do not realize what is so wrong about this.
but i still have the temptation in my mind,
wondering if this is even worth it.

crying my own little heart out,
watching the clock tick by the time,
i sit here, alone,'
waiting for a better tomorrow.
i sit and stare at the blade beside me,
my eyes turning red with lust.

but i finally feel strong, 
and dump tht blade away.

i promise 2 b strong!
...i just wish i had a hand...