I want to cut,

And it makes me cry,

Because I want to live,

Seems I can't help but die.

I die a little all the time,

Though I cling to every breath,

I'm holding on stronger always,

From the weakness I have left.

. . .

Sharp words slice from my lips,

I can't help myself but to say,

I lay my blame in me and others,

Who've left me to fade away.

A heart slapping to the ground,

It's fallen from my sleeves,

In a slow drip drop pattern,

I came crashing to my knees.

. . .

Many came to pick it up,

And I took them much too far,

My heart remained outside beating—

dirt-coated and a little charred.

Burnt too often for me to want it,

It was safer to forget its presence,

Yet the consequences of this action,

Caused a worse set of events.

. . .

No heart, no care and apathy reigns,

Continuity found only in grieving,

A little gash here and there,

Still bleeding, still alive, not living.

. . .

Addiction came to take over,

To pretend my days away for me,

So I no longer needed to bother,

And I could replicate being free.

More and more of life bled away,

Until the oblivion came—

and the fight seemed all but lost,

What from life, could I possibly gain?

. . .

With a stumble I saw my heart once more,

Still dirty and forlorn and yet beating away,

So, with nothing left to lose,

I forced it back inside to stay.

The change was not instant,

and the dirt was stuck on tough,

But the most fleeting feeling,

Happiness perhaps, is often enough.

. . .

Enough to wake in the morning for,

Even if the night brings terrors,

Enough to want to work each day,

Despite fears lasting forever.

For the most part it gets easier with time,

Each day I am getting stronger,

But when I fall it hurts much more,

As the fall is rather longer.

. . .

It's a far cry from being on the floor,

And spending my life down there,

But when I'm here I need some help,

To feel the daylight warm the air.

. . .

This moment is hard, yet I choose no knife,

For I can see the upward slope,

I know how difficult this is now,

But I want a life filled with hope.

For some this may be easily gained,

For us its meaning is greater,

We who struggle against our minds,

Will grow strong sooner or later.

. . .

So I know that I can fight my thoughts,

Postpone any more rash decisions,

And survive until I can properly live,

Without making any deep incisions.

Yes, I'll slip but I have my heart back,

So when I do I'll sure feel the sting,

Pain I've had a small price to pay,

For life lessons I've been learning.

. . .

A/N: Sorry for the random hyphens, my computer won't publish the spaces for some weird reason. ConCrit always welcome :).