That night
She took a blade to her skin.
Watched at the crimson bubbles of blood unearthed themselves from beneath.
Yet no tears stained her cheeks,
No nervous energy circulated through her veins.
After all is done,
She remembered:
They walked side by side.
An innocent, absentminded smile was displayed on her best friends face.
From side-view, she noticed the slight spring in her step.
If only that would've came naturally to herself.
If only that lopsided grin would've presented itself across her lips at unnecessary times.
Her best friend was happy,
She wasn't.
She pulled the blade away,
And smiled as the broken vein oozed her life away.
YOU ARE READING
you killed my flower
Poetryi hate the way your eyes can manipulate me. poems about his eyes and other things.
