I trade in my knife,
For a colored pen.
I trade in a thousand cuts,
For a little picture over the scars.

I trade in tears,
For sweet relief.
I trade in a strange little cut,
For a butterfly.

I learned about a little thing,
Something I thought was neat.
Draw a butterfly instead of cut,
Cut your butterfly dies.

I gave it a chance to see how it worked,
Surprised that I didn't want my butterfly to die.
I told my friends about this program,
And they drew an amazing butterfly on me.

I may still want to cut myself,
But I don't want my sweet butterfly to die.
So I have found a new solution,
Maybe you should too.

The butterfly they drew on me to the side.