hope you don't understand this

Little girl who lost the way of life and found a way in a knife.
She's not a serial killer, or maybe she is.
Murdering herself ith thoughts every night.
Everyday she has a fight. Despite the fact she can't be alright

she can't seem to find hapiness;
her life is a mess. She'd rather live less
for everything she takes the blame,
and the only one there for her is a blade

a blade who craves sliding across her skin
look how hurt she has been
her strenght is her smile,
even if the scars and cuts on her wrists are in a pile

trying to convince everyone she's fine
but wisges she was six feet underground
do you understand my poem? It's about your life...
but you don't see it becouse it's hard to admit you're not alive