Sitting in my room at three AM.
Horrible thoughts rushing through my head.
Tears running down my face.
Trying to not make a sound.
Stuffing my head into a pillow to mute my cries.
Searching my room for my sharp blades to cut deep into my skin.
Holding the blades give me a small sense of cumfort.
Not caring about a thing I slash at my skin.
Over and over again the cuts get deeper.
After a while I forget what I was doing.
I snap back to reality and wake from my thoughts.
I rush to find something to clean the blood stained floor.
After a while I hear a knock at the door.
I put on a hoodie to cover my arm.
A big blanket on the floor stained with blood.
I open the door with my dad standing there.
I give him a smile because I know he cares.
He gives me a hug and says he has to go.
He works on the railroad so anytime in the night he might go.
I tell him goodnight and that I love him so.
He leaves and I close the door but don't let go.
I fall to my knees and realize what I've done.
But what my family doesn't know won't hurt them I suppose.
I clean up my mess and get ready for bed.
I close my eyes and wonder how I'm not dead.
It's really a shame what people don't know.
They will never know if I'm ready to go.
Sweet dreams to you and I wish you well.
For what I've done I hope I don't end up in hell.
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So this is based on some of my nights. Except I don't cut my arms and I don't let blood hit the floor
