"They'll check your wrists,

but not your thighs.

Smile wide to

cover the lies"

Blades slice through,

and blood seeps out.

I wish to die,

there is no doubt.

It's easy to hide,

with a big fake smaile.

I keep telling myself,

it'll be over in a while.

Sure, I'm okay,

as far as everyone can tell.

No one knows my secret, 

my life is a living Hell.

This disease is killing me,

and there's no cure for it.

It's a deadly addiction,

the blade has such and allure.

Someday, it might kill me. 

But I've come to terms with this.

My life is a small thing, 

And one not many will miss.