She uses her wrist as her paper
A knife as her pen.
And her blood as her ink.
Her screams are like sirens.
Her sobs are like alarms.
Her tears are like warnings.
Is she killing herself?
Is she ready to die?
Is she risking her life?
Eventually she stood up.
She tied the rope
Made a loop
And almost, almost inserted her head
Good thing someone stopped her
Somebody stopped her
Is it him?
No, it's not him.
It's her mind.
It's her heart.
And the pain slowly fades
The pain slowly exits.
The pain is gone.
