There is no escape. All I feel is saddness. I don't know what to do. All I can think of is to cut, Inflict pain on myself, Like how the pain is hurting me. The sharp silver blade in my hand. Should I do it? Should I not do it? I want to. But I don't want to. I tell people not to cut, But I can see why they do it. I put the blade to my skin, It feels cold. Tears run down my face. I press harder, The blade presses on my skin. I stop it before it pierces me. I can't do this. I cry some more. I feel so much pain, But I can't do anything. I put the blade down, But someday I may pick it up again.
