There are just something you cannot fix

Trust me, I know

I used to write letters to a girl who had slits on her wrist

To say the least, she was sadistic

She was sad and had a sickness

That ate away her heart and hope

Her depression was a slippery slope

And she was addicted

She knew that if she tried to heal

She would miss it

The blood running down her wrist it

Would drip drip drip 

And she would go up and lick it 

She would fall in love with everything but her own reflection

Claim that everyone else is perfection

Claim the only thing she faces from other people is rejection

Her sadness is an infection

That has no cure

Therapy and medication won't fix this girl

 

I used to write letters to a girl who has slits on her wrist

 

But then I realized there are just some things, you cannot fix