• I have an itch I dare not scratch,
    Its burning inside like a destructive match.

    I start to sweat, to twich and lie
    If I do it I will shurly die.

    The pressures bult up I draw my last breath,
    It makes me so high its my own special Meth.

    I just can't take it I will do the deed,
    I slit my wrist and it starts to bleed.

    The blood beads up, then it will pop
    Im going so crazy I just can't stop.

    My arms redundent doing it again and again,
    If my parents only knew of my selfish sin.

    My arm drips like a leaky drain,
    It's the only way to ease the pain.

    I see my self in the puddle of blood, and turn my head in hate.
    Cutting is my adiction, and death is my fate.

    My mom calls the cops to try and set things straight,
    But I lay there dead they were all too late.