There's been many times
That I wanted to commit suicide
The knife sits by my side
As if its calling my name
So I slowly pick it up
And press it against my soft flesh
I begin to glide the knife
My blood flows through my skin
It stings a bit
But i don't care
It feels to good to stop
My mind is calm
Then I begin to think that it's unfair
To all the people I would hurt
Because of my selfish act
So I stop and stare
At my wrist that's now covered in my despair
And now there's another scar
Of my failure to commit suicide