I’m not quite sure
What I’m doing here

What does it matter?
Why do I matter?

How is this the river mouth of my tears?
Are these the consequences of my actions?

What would it be like if things were different?
Why couldn’t things be different?

What does it matter?
Why do I matter?

Do I matter?
Why?

I’m not complaining, really
Just questioning.

I wake up crying
Dying inside
Tell my parents that i'm ok
But i'm really not
And I hate it when they push further
Because they know that I am lying
But I need them to push me to keep me alive
And I hate the pain of the knife against my skin
But I love the punishment for my sins
I don't think that I can do this anymore
*It hurts too much to try