
09-24-2009, 12:22 AM
I lay on my bed at night,
And I think about my life.
I wonder how it's come to be,
That i'm so miserable.
I've lain here many a night,
And thought, oh how I wish,
I was more understandable.
I can't be seen,
Without people staring.
They don't seem to see,
That i'm just like everyone else.
I can't help it,
I go home every night and let the tears slip from my eyes.
I run into the bathroom again,
And commit the crime I do every night.
I rip the blade out of the drawer,
and I push up my sleeves.
I think how I much better i'll soon feel,
And the tears begin to fall again.
As I slide the razor against my skin,
I hear the front door open.
I quickly hide my weapons and begin to smile,
Because I know my mom'll soon see the scar left behind.
I grab a towel,
And I clean up the bloody mess.
I just wish people wouldn't stare,
At all the scars and scrapes.
And then maybe, just maybe,
I wouldn't be a criminal to myself.
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