Life of a cutter

Why are you doing this to me your sending me to dismay,
Why do you even bother your words are a cliche.
I go into my happy place, and reach for the blade
The blade that I have become acustomd to the thing that makes problems fade.
Your the reason why I do this your the reason why
You think your invincible making me cry.
The blade pierces my skin the warmth so reassuring
The mark across my wrist fills me with relief, the blade still lies there so plain yet alluring.
I place my happiness back in its drawer
Why must my life be such a chore