• I’ve grabbed a knife,
    To make me feel,
    I’m needing that pain,
    Of that cold angry steel.
    I’ll make myself suffer,
    It’s just what I need,
    I saw my friends scars,
    And they planted the seed.
    It grew slow and rotten,
    And now I regret,
    That I never told my mum,
    So she wouldn’t fret.
    It means a lot that you noticed,
    But you don’t need to worry,
    Death is not coming yet,
    And I’m in no hurry.