Tears run down her face, 

And loudly she weeps,

She doesn't know what to do without him, 

She can't think.

She takes the metal razor,

Cold to her touch.

Places it against her skin,

Glides it across, rough.

Blood flows.

It trickled in streams down her arm.

What could have made her do this?

What could make anyone self-harm?

Could it be the harrassing?

The teasing? The pokes?

What about those hurtful words

You spit at her in jokes?

Could it be the boy,

The one that holds her heart?

He promised to never break it,

But is shredding it apart.

Could it be that sometimes

The weight of the world is upon her? 

She needs an escape.

But  she won't bother.

Just her and herr little razor blade,

And the privacy of her room.  

It may be her escape now, 

But may, one day, be her doom.

 

One day, she may

Cut just  a little deeper.

She may bleed out,

Blood-stained white t-shirt.

She may no longer live with doubt. 

Parents shake and bang 

On her locked bathroom door.

They break down the barrior,

Shakes her body; limp.

Her mother never expected to lose her baby,

A thought she hadn't dreamt. 

 

Her mother looks through

Blood shot, teary eyes.

Towards the pine casket,

Where her daughter's body lies.

Her brother views her body,

Whilst hiding his own wounds.

He will be like her.

His life is headed for the ruins.

Best friends; they sob,

All holding one another's hand.

They grasp ahold tightly, 

They don't want to lose another friend.

 

I watch from the Heavens,

Sitting at the foot of Saint Peter and his gate.

I'm looking down upon them, 

And the grief put upon their plate.

I wipe away my last tears, 

And God grips my hand, assuringly.

He shows the way in

To the place I've waited for worriedly.

I hug my grandfathers neck, 

Sit in his lap and kiss his cheek.

Today, my worries are wiped away.

This is the final sleep.