Bleeding heart, Bleeding arm

Cut.
The knife in my hand
cutting deep into my skin
making the pure white skin blend into the red

All the pain of the heart fades away
letting my head glide back
this wonderful feeling
all my pain goes away
look at the blood
the way it run out of my hand
no desire for death
hurting myself for other reasons only
to weak to face reality
running from the pain
replacing it
why is this so bad,
when it makes everything so good
why do I want to run to this pain every time my heart aches
every time someone stabs my soul
why is this pain the only way out i can see

They say its addictive?
I say it's not.
it's only too good to give up
once you've tasted it
you don't want to stop whit it,
it's such a easy thing to do.

As you get use to it,
the cuts go deeper.
As time passes,
more scars come.
Now my entire arm is full.
They call it emo,
but no'one can see this on me
I'm just a stranger on the street, doing my thing
you cant see
the different from me and someone else
no'one notice the scars I put on my body
hiding from the real pain.

I've broken so many promises
saying I've quited
stoped
but never did
under these clothes
under this jacket
exist the scars
act like you got nothing to hide,
and people wont notice what your trying to hide from everyone.

Knowing how bad it is,
how dangerous it is,
why don't I stop?

I don't know it myself anylonger...