The Cutting

I wake up everyday and put on a smile,
Knowing I'll have to hold the pain in for a while.
I leave the house hating my life,
Later I return and grab my knife.

Call me stupid, or call me dumb,
I have to cut unitl I'm numb.
I'm a bad person, no one thinks I'm not,
So I grab knife and cut 'til it's forgot.

As I cut, and  blood rushes out,
The blade hurts, but I don't shout.
Because, now my mental pain isn't present,
It's like the knife opened a vent.
Out with the mental pain,
As I watch the blood rain.

I close my eyes, I can now rest,
Because the pain disappeared when I pressed.