I stand in the kitchen,
in my hand is a knife.
I stand there wondering,
Should I take my own life?

Or should I tell my parents
about how I'm so sad,
And how everything around me
always makes me mad?

The took me out of private school
'cause the kids were making fun.
Why hasn't the hurting gone away
now that the teasing is over and done?

There is a guy I like
at the place where I work.
But I doubt he thinks of me as more than a friend
If he did, he'd probabally just smirk.

My family's at work
and the house is now quiet.
I put the knife down
and eat something that breaks my diet.

I head to my room
and turn on music my 'rents would call bad,
And I try to forget
the feelings I just had.

Now the urge is over,
I won't suicide today.
But I can't help thinking as I drift into sleep,
If the urge comes again, what will I say?