Self-harm poems

Beautiful crime

In a dark and silent, dimly lit room
A girl is sitting, awaiting her doom.
The clock stopped ticking, she's run out of time
And all they'll see is a beautiful crime.

Her pain is fogging all she can see
And her hope is running down in a stream
In the colour of red, made of blood
Mixed with tears, it begins to flood.

She sobs and she screams, but without a sound
As all her thoughts make one last round
Before she finds the piece she craved,
Every night, while the battle raged.

She's drifting away; she can feel it now.
As the pain it leaves, she hits the ground.
All her worries now say goodbye,
As the broken angel returns to the sky.

In the dark and silent, unlit room
A girl is lying, saved by her doom.
She's left the world now; she'd run out of time
And all you can see is a beautiful crime.