Cut

I'm sitting here with this knife in my hand As the cold blade goes across my skin It brings back so many memories I don't know if I should cut right Over my vein or beside it I try to think of which one will make Me bleed more Pressure and a slow pull movement is all I need The deeper the blade goes in th better it feels My arm is full of scarlet lines now I threw the red tipped knife across the room I'm sitting on the floor holding my arm tight Watching as my blood pours out onto the floor in front of me These scars are going to stay forever They're like tattoos but with better stories behind them They show all of the things that have went wrong in my life All the things I've been through and had to deal with on my own People say my cuts are a sign of weakness While I say my cuts are a sign of hurt and pain They say it's a cry for attention I say it's a cry for help