The Truth Doesn't Hurt

The blade does deeper.
The cut is a little longer.
The pain stays.
The blood slowly falls off my wrist.
The blade just screams to me.
It shines in the light.
My eyes burn. Bold-Shot. Dry. To many tears have fallen.
To many times i've said i was going to stop, but now here i am.
Shaky hands. Throbing wrist. Burning eyes.
Here i am with the razor in my hand.
The feeling never gets old.Never. It just gets better.
The more i do, the better i feel.
Am i crayz? Probably.
But you see, being away. Locked up.
You learn that it doesnt really matter.
They all know you'll end up back here. Back in the place you never wanted to be.
You find yourself crying yourself to sleep, becasue you cant get all your memories out of your head.
I wont lie and say it all gets better, because honestly i dont believe it really does.
People say that to make you feel better.
Just so you wont take yourself out.
They love feeling in control.
Shit i hate being the one writing these facts out, but someone has to.
I mean they cant just keep bullshitting people. When will this shit end?