Why is it that every time you see me,

You turn your back?

Why is it that my feelings,

No longer seem to care to you?

Why are you even here?

Why do you insist on staying,

When I offer nothing?

Why do I try to make you see that?

Why do I hold the jagged edge to my throat?

Why do I insert the point into my veins,

Laughter dancing in my eyes,

As the blood runs bright and deadly red?

Why do you just stand there?