I want to scream

I want to cry

and I hate to admit it

but  I want to die

I want to stop this constant hurt

to stop the voices in my head

to never again get out of bed

to stop cutting my skin

like its paper

the blade is the pen

but I'm the artist

and I can't quit

every cut is a step closer

to finishing my artwork

and once I finish 

the lines soon fade

till little white lines

are all that remain

and if I make a mistake

I cut and cut

till blood covers up

anything that I make

and then I'll start over

on to a clean slate

and when the lines heal

I'll trace them sometimes

remembering the story

that lays behind each line