She locks the door of her room,
She wants to die really soon.
She cries out begging for help ,
She shouts and screams and cries and yelps.
But it is way too late to save her soul,
The monster living inside her is taking control.
Her hand unconsciously grabs the blade,
Drawing a painting that will never fade.
The painting symbolizes her pain,
Its paint is dripping like red rain.
Oh, one painting is not enough,
The monster makes her think her life is rough.
One cut for all the names she was called,
She remembers each one, she remembers them all.
Another for being disgustingly ugly, she thought,
She hated her looks, she hated them a lot.
She cuts and slices, piercing the blade through her skin,
The monster inside her satisfyingly grins.
She starts to drown in her own flood,
Of worries and problems and cold red blood.
She lost the game against that monster,
She lost her life, the monster killed her.
Truth is this monster is society,
They judged her and killed her, as you can see.
Stop judging innocent souls,
Your mean acts play a big role.
You might have won this battle society,
But you shall lose the war lifelessly.
