*Before I start, please don't think that I am suicidal. I wrote this a LONG time ago. Please read/rate this for it's poetic content, not the words. Thank you.*

Is it all in my head? I think that I should be dead. I know one person who understands, The only person who can. They've been there, But you don't care. You don't know my past, Don't even care to ask. If only I could tell you what you don't know, There's so many things that I would show. You think that I'm always happy and cheerful, But inside I'm always tearful. If you think that cutting is wrong, Try it and you'll sing a different song. "Why do you do it?" Come and wait a bit. Maybe you'll see What it does to me. It takes the pain away, But don't listen to what I say. It takes the world away; Another place I'd like to stay. What do you think of when you think of me? Suicide, depression, is that what you see? Maybe you're right, maybe you're wrong. Have you been thinking that all along? Sometimes I don't want to get out of bed. Is it really just all in my head? -Megan-