If you refuse
To be a drop
You can't become
A deep sea
Also,
If you aren't lost
You won't be found

We yell self righteous notes
When we peek within everyone is dying of sin
Broken is the helping hand
Let's pretend to be complete

I use different tools to harm myself.
Wrists are my favorite place to cut.
He told me he knows I cut often.
I tried cutting my stomach it’s easier to hide the cuts.
I’m tired of wearing long sleeves in the summer to hide my cuts on my wrist.
Cut, cut, cut, cut.
Blood comes out of my wrist.
What a beautiful sight, I could stare at it forever.
I might explore and cut my thighs.
Cut, cut, cut, cut.
I need to buy new razors.
My hidden knife is still in the cabinet it’s hidden behind my shampoo bottle.  
I use the knife and then I take a razor and use that.
Razors hurt more, my wrist itches after I cut.
It stings in the shower, if it rains and I just cut it stings then too.
I wanted to stop, I have been addicted for a while now.
Someday I will cut to deep and it will be all over.
No pills.
All I have to do is hit a vein.

I thought if I cut my hair short, I would have confidence.
My grams said guys don’t like girls who have short hair.
I thought if I cut my hair I would be happy.
My mom said it was short but cute. I’m sure she really hates it.
I thought if I cut my hair I would smile more.
A friend of mine didn’t recognize me, she said your hair is so different.
I thought if I cut my hair I would want to wear makeup and be pretty.
A lady I know said it looks like I lost 50 pounds with my new hairstyle.
I thought if I cut my hair guys would like me more.
No one is use to my hair yet.
I thought I liked my hair, why shouldn’t I like it?

I’m standing on an empty stage.
I’m looking at where the audience would be sitting.
I see someone sitting watching me.
I try to see the person that is there.
I can’t make out their face.
I shout at them and ask who are you.
They don’t answer, I ask them again who are you.
Again no answer, the person begins to walk towards me.
They have a long black coat on.
This person is tall with short black hair.
He gets on stage with me still he has said nothing to me.
I think I have seen this man before, where have I seen him though.
Finally, he speaks he says I’m death, nice seeing you again Steph.
Why is he here?
Why am I seeing him again?