Artist

I want to sigh

I want to cry

And I hate to admit it but

I want to die

To stop this endless pain

To never again get out of bed

To stop cutting up my skin

Like it’s paper

And my blade a pen

But I’m an artist 

And I can’t stop

Each cut closer

To finishing my masterpeice

But it will soon fade Till little white lines

Are all that remain

And if I make a mistake

I’ll cut and cut

Till the blood covers up

Any thing I made

And then I’ll start over 

Onto a clean slate

And I’ll trace the lies somethimes

Remembering the stories

That lay behind each line