I looked in the drawer,
Picked up my little blade.
Took a peek at my wrist,
The scars have started to fade.
A tear escaped my eye,
And my wrist by the blade was kissed.
The blood trickled down,
Oh how this sensation I'd missed.
I smiled at my wrist,
And I laughed at the pain.
Wiped my arm on my stomach,
Another shirt I have stained.
My arm was kissed by a blade,
Pretty blood on my skin.
Oh I look so happy,
But I'm sort of dead witihin.
I cleaned up my arm,
And put up my blade.
Another pretty little drawing,
On my wrist I have made.