My friend, this will be the end.

I'm screaming no out loud, another mental break down is at its peak. No one can hear the pain I hold bound deep inside. An old friend I've kept in my closet, a rusty little razor is all I have. I place my friend close to my skin and start to begin the past movement. Its stops quickly, I'am better than this. So I take a second to think of all the times I've done it, it started ten years ago, but do I want it? I can't go back, I need to move on. I'am sorry my friend, we can't go on. You were only here for me when I wanted you, I don't need that so I'am moving on.