Pain, pain I hate you,
You’re the reason my smile isn’t true,
Sit me here and tear me down,
Cut me up, push me around.
Crimson tears flow down my wrists,
Maybe it would be better if I no longer exist,
Suicidal thoughts run through my head,
Perhaps it’d be better if I ended up dead.
So here I’m ready to end my life,
Upon my wrists is a knife,
Slice it open and blood gushes out,
Your hurtful ways no longer fill me with doubt.