a flirting knife

I watch As the knife flirts with me "It hurts," I say But i don't stop I don't even pause to think The next morning, it stings But all I worry about Was making sure my sleeves cling to my arms As the day passes All I want to do is cry And cry And cry But I can't because then they'd ask that stupid question of "Are you ok?" I never know the answer I wish, though But I never know what i truly feel I wish, though I wish the knife would stop its flirting and let me clean my soul of these burdens that claim it