These Scars, They Tell Stories - A Poem Collection

The Girl

For years, some thoughts have skipped about her mind, 

until it was happiness that she could no longer find.

Her voice grew dull, her words short and mangled,

with each day that passed, her mind got more tangled.

At night it got worse, for she was all by herself.

The bad thoughts crept up, using silence and stealth.

Their fingers trailed up her spine and invaded her brain.

The razor sharp nails caused bleeding at pain.

Nothing the girl did resulted in a sense of relief,

all that was brought was more sadness and grief.

And so it was in a journal that everyday she wrote,

about the things she did and the things she hoped.

The girl stared at a page, the paper so thin,

as her hand guided the crimson colored pen.

Dancing on the floorboards of midnights darkest stage,

she knew the script would end when she turned another page.

Each day that passed, another page was filled.

She continued turning pages until one read "I have killed"

The color red soaked up the page and dripped on her palm.

It gushed out her wrists, yet she remained calm.

The girl leaned against the wall and gently shut her eyes.

She whispered to herself as she said her final goodbyes.

                                    This poem was inspired by idranktheseawater from Youtube.