it wasn't the knife

i got home
it was the worst day
everyday was always bad
but this one was just awful

i found out you used me the whole time
that you never really cared
that you were happy i might leave
but i think that's the only thing you didn't understand

i wasn't leaving
like as in moving
i was leaving as in
hey look i'm cold as ice

but maybe you did know
i mean everyone else did
and they wished i would...
that i would finally finish myself

and i never wanted to
because im always told
theres one person who needs you
think about it

i thought you were that one person
but i guess not
so when i got home
i was all alone

my parents working
my brother and sister at school
i got the blades from my hiding spot
and went into my bathroom

one, two, three, cut after cut
never deep enough to get to my vein
remembering you saying goodbye to our friendship
how you hope i would leave

so i made sure i wrote your name on my arm
before i slit the deepest i could
and then i saw even more red
then i heard banging on the door

then i saw black
but just so everyone knows
the knife isn't what killed me
but that little goodbye did


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