"One cut, that's it, that's all." You said to me.
"One cut will make you feel stress free."

"One cut," I said, "That's all it takes.
One cut is such a huge mistake."

"One cut," You said, "Won't hurt, I swear.
One slit on your wrist right there."

I watched you slit your arm,
And then I did too.
I don't know why- It really just seemed like the cool thing to do.

"One little cut," I told myself,
"It'll be just fine."
So I started cutting myself all the time.

I became addicted- I needed to slit my arm.
"A few more cuts," I tell myself, "Won't do any harm."

But then one day my mom walked in.
"What are you doing? Why'd you start and when?"

Those are the questions that she said,
And all those memories replay through my head.

I got help, and now I'm fine,
So I'm writing this in my free time.

When I got home, I asked where you were.

"She never got help." My mom said.

"One cut. That's it. That's all." You said.
And you almost wound up dead.

I know one cut is all it takes,
I know one cut is a huge mistake.