I cut deeper every day.
But the scars never stay.
It's a sense of relieve.
Left under my sleave.
On my wrist is your lies
To show my cries.
I can't handle if you leave.
You have done it some much times now all I feel is greave.
Another poem around you.
I put my hole life around you only if you knew.
You say I'm a waste.
And those words have caused cuts and a bitter taste.
Of pills going down .
Soon my death will be news for the town.