She ran home quickly running upstairs to her room
Shutting the door...
Locking and leaning against the door slowly sliding down
With teary eyes and a frown...
Smelling like roses
Sitting on the floor
Crying her eyes out
Lies she had a doubt about...
She slowly flips the blade
Between her thumb and index fingers the voices making her cut up...
Her body
Pushing her more and more
As she cut up her perfect, clean wrist...
Getting to her thighs making deep cuts
Girls calling her a slut
She wants to rip out ger guts...
She's broken and tore
Looking at the cuts she made
She hates life as much as her dad Scotty...
Her life was coming to a twist...
YOU ARE READING
Short Stories and Poems
Short StoryAll stories and Poems are mine unless stated they aren't. WARNING:MAY BE TRIGGERING. Request a poem and/or short story theme/genre You'd like I'll do as many as possiable
