Blood drips freely down my arm
One more cut what�s the harm?

Dripping slowly to the floor.
A tale of hurt and spite, all but lore.

I feel the pain and I cry out.
The air is filled with my silent shout.

Ideas of suicide slowly filter in.
Though my hand stays still, with the thought of mourning kin.

These thoughts confuse my mind.
Filling me with promises so unkind.

I feel the pain and I cry out.
The air is filled with my silent shout.

I know it�s a sin, but why can�t I stop?
The excess blood, I gently sop.

That which I cannot control.
Confusing my heart, mind, and soul.

I feel the pain and I cry out.
The air is filled with my silent shout.

Un-healing wounds just below my skin.
The expression I wear is one of chagrin.

Looking upon the scars I face.
My arm shows signs of my failing grace.

I feel the pain and I cry out.
The air is filled with my silent shout.