• As I open the bathroom door.
    My eyes begin to pour.
    I cry cry cry.
    Wondering why why why.
    Why do I feel I dont belong?
    Why does no one get along?
    So as I pick up that knife.
    I think about my life...
    Cutt one: As the cold hard blade
    reaches my vein I begin to
    remember when I was happy
    and felt no pain.
    Cutt two: I look at my arm
    look at the blood, I think
    to myself...wouldnt this
    be easier if I just had a gun?
    Cutt three: My bloodprint now on the
    bathroom door..I get dizzy wondering is it
    too late and drop to the floor..
    Too awake to see and thank my mom for
    my life...I will never pick up that knife..
    again...




    Scream Me Something Beautifull