• The point of the metal
    Cool on my skin
    Slides across slowly
    So I feel my sin
    They start out as scratches
    That fade away fast
    But turn into deep scars
    That forever will last
    When I pick up the scissors
    My mind loses control
    My body is trembling
    As the blade eats my soul
    The last time I did it
    I didn't bleed
    But I still see the marks
    That I didn't need
    I thought this would help me
    Make the pain go away
    But as I gradually feel better
    I see the cuts that will stay
    And I now know that what I did
    Hurt more than just me.