It's a blade.
It's a razor sharp blade.
A razor sharp blade that I have hidden in my room.
A hidden razor sharp blade that is only to be found by me.
It's my hidden razor sharp blade that is to only be used by me.
I take that razor sharp hidden blade and unwrap it from the paper.

I use it; I slice open my soft smooth skin.
Without a doubt I cut deeper and deeper.
I think of all the horrid things that have been said to me.
and the pain is numb.
The blood trickles beneath my skin.
The puddles flow beneath my feet.
Another worry that has defeat.

I used to wonder how they did it.
Slice their skin as if it was simple.
but it is.
It's easier than it seems.
Soon you get used to the feeling.
and you don't even flinch we you traced the scars.

I take the razor sharp hidden blade and.......
.......I cut deeper and deeper.