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Some call it crazy Some say it's sick But I think it's freedom The pain is fierce but quick Some say that it's a sin Just a little too risque' But it helps release the pain That I go through everyday The blade is sharp and cold As it runs across my skin Leaving me to ponder And decide how deep I cut in The icy chill running down my spine Makes me feel at ease I no longer feel like a coward Fucking up on everything with every breath I breathe But some days I want to stop Feeling like everything's wrong Trying to let go of the blade Sometimes I can but not for long It's like I'm addicted to the pain The feeling taking refuge in my veins Leaving me feeling confused and alone Wiping at the streaked tears that seem to be stained Burned into my skin forever Becoming a part that I cannot escape Sometimes I just want to hurt all over To scream at the top of my lungs until they break I want to escape from my sadness It's taking over me Why can't I just rest Why won't it let me be I just want to be free

She sat alone, alone and at home, where her screams were silent, but her mind was violent. He insecurities hid deep inside, and they did indeed eat her alive. A tear rolled down her face, as her heart began to race. She took her blade and tore her skin, where her depression lied deep within. This went on for days, months, years, and until she cried her very last tears. She decided that she had enough, the world around her was too tough. She took a gun to her head. Congratulations society, she is dead.

As the urges get stronger, I pick up my blade, make sure my roommate is out some scars have fade. I use it against my arm, hoping no one will see. The demons who tear me inside, finally let me be. As the blood runs out, the pain leaves my mind. Sadness disappears, but still happiness I still don't find.

you panic when everything you love falls away so you grab what you can even if it is a blade but i will bring you back im gonna save you coz the end of you is the end of me i kno it was for me but this doesnt make me feel better if anything i get worse so i bring you bak from the brink im gonna save you so let me??

Your name is sore under my sleeve. Blood-soaked shirts cross my mind. Reminding me of all the lost times. All the times I could have said, What's killing me inside. I can't say. I look into your Icy Blues. And I just can't say. Those three words. They carve your name in me. How simple it all must seem. To anyone else. But me. I'll never say, what I never tried to say. So you see, It will be alright. It will be okay. Looking into your Icy blues. I'll go out in style. Your name is so sore under my sleeve. Your name. So sore. By the time it's possible for me to tell. What I've wanted to say. You won't be able to hear me. Your name is so sore. You can't hear me anymore. Your name. So sore. So bloody. You can't hear me anymore. It's okay. I'm going out in style. I mean, you can't even hear me. Now can you, Kyle?