As I lie in bed, blade in hand, I wonder.. what is the point of all this? What's the point of waking up and living this life, only to die in the end?
Why lose so many people only to be lost in the end.. Why am I still here? Why do I wake up and live this life after all I've seen.. all I've hurt.. all I've lost.. all I've been through..
Slowly these thoughts overwhelm me and tears start to build up.. Then the silver blade slowly presses into my skin and as I cut these cries for help, love, acceptance, happyness, freedom from myself, I realise that these dreams will never be real and the blade presses harder, deeper.. making a scar that'll remind me of the pain I feel to this day..
Blood leaks from the cuts and drips on the floor in a weird mix of tears, sorrow and crimson.. It's quickly swept away and a smile is put in it's place for others to be happy and live their lives..
If only they knew about this silent cry for help hidden behind this smile of mine...
If only they knew...
