“"Silly little girl please don’t do this.
Those scissors are for paper,
Not for your wrist.”
The sad thing is, I hate to say,
That’s not true.
And that you cant even comprehend the harm I wish to do.
"Put down that razor,
Put down that knife,
Trust me, you don’t want to end your life”
I honestly don’t want to overdose,
Or end up bleeding out on the floor..
But I just might because of whats in my head, going on behind a closed door.
(I worte this. The first and third stanzas are from poems I have read on the internet. I was thinking about them last night before I fell asleep and I wrote this.)”