Some nights
I raise the knife to my wrist in anticipation
But my bodies weak
I don't have the strength to make a cut
I don't have the strength to do what I want
I'm weak
That's why I cut anyway
That's why I hide
Behind baggy clothes and long sleeves
Behind smiles that don't quite reach
Behind words that sound pretty
But in reality they're broken
They're empty
I'm weak
Going through my days
In this broken body
This worthless body
This pointless body
I'm weak
And I know it
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Me and what I love
Mostly poetry probably.. Maybe toss in bits and peices of Me.
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