Every time i am down and depressed,
My hand pickes up the razor,
My hand moves to my arm and cuts it away.

The blood dripping,
my hand still cuts away and slices my arm.

The razor blade and my arm are stuck together,
Like best friends.

Its so hard to let them go,
My hand and the razor blade just cant let go....

Rachel Beresford

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/my-hand-and-the-razor-blade/