Struggle of live and death. |
Behind Closed Doors Why do I do what I do? The answer is, I have no clue. Does this mean I’m sick? If so, I’ve pulled the ultimate trick. I know I need help. But I’m scared to say how I felt It helps the pain go away. Unfortunately, it will always emotionally stay. How do I stop? It swallows me like water into a mop. Stress is the worst. For it’s the basis of this curse The emotional pain is so bad. If my parents knew - They would be so mad. Many people suffer with this torment- like me. So won’t you take some ease - Please? I’ve only done it a few times. And I seem to be fine. So why do I feel so off? From what I see, I should be on top. But the pain is too much. For emotionally I’m badly crushed. Man this really sucks, I hate the fact that I have to cut. Sometimes I wonder why, cause I’m not deprived. I cry many nights - Alone As my blood would start to flow. For this cut is deep. So to my bed I will creep. I lay - bleeding, crying, and alone on my bed. And hope that they’ll find me dead. But a last it’s morning- and I’m alive. Death - Once again I was deprived. Slowly I get up to clean up my mess Cause if my parents were to see - They would think of me even less. I love my parents so much. And yet - Emotionally they’re out of touch. I don’t want to die. But the pain would make an insensitive man cry. As I leave my room - I put on a smile. With me crying inside all the while. With long sleeves on in mid-summer For the cuts I try to cover. As I listen to what others are saying. The entire time I’m praying. For that one day I will succeed. In my dirty little deed. A last it’s time for bed. My - the thoughts going through my head. I know how to make them stop. I grow weaker as it flows faster with every drop. This time I think I did it. So on my bed I’ll sit And wait - And the tears start to poor. Cause you never know what happens - Behind Closed Doors. |