Happiness

My thoughts are often similar

They're all the same

Every little detail

Every little thing

I press the blade against my skin

Cutting a little too deep

My wrist is the evidence

My wrist is my pain

I hate that I can never win

Can never have hope

My world is crashing

I reach for the rope

It's already tied

But it's going to win

As I place it around my neck

And hang onto happiness