The Pain That Hits.

A slit,
A cut,
A great big gush
Of crimson blood
Pouring.

You wash it off,
And leave the house,
A slit,
A cut,
Hidden in your sleeve.

You feel happy for a while,
Then sad for some time,
You feel guilty,
Yet you do it again.

A slit,
A cut,
A great big gush
Of crimson blood
From my wrist.

I go out,
With a smile plastered onto my face,
A slit,
A cut,
Nothing I can do,
It's too late,
I've done it again.