Cut My Wrists For Me
I wrote this in a time of large amounts of emotion. Too much for me to handle…
Stare at nothing,
let me be.
all I can do,
is think of one thing,
which is already too much for me.
I stare at the sun.
I stare at my empty life.
I stare at my wrists,
And I stare at the knife.
I ask myself,
do i want to die?
All I even do now is cry...
so cut my wrists,
and use my dads knife,
slit them fast,
and end my f**ked up life.
let me be.
all I can do,
is think of one thing,
which is already too much for me.
I stare at the sun.
I stare at my empty life.
I stare at my wrists,
And I stare at the knife.
I ask myself,
do i want to die?
All I even do now is cry...
so cut my wrists,
and use my dads knife,
slit them fast,
and end my f**ked up life.
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