The Deed
You could have been happy.
At one point,
smiling
like every other girl
Laughing until you can't breath
but you're not
are you?
Here you are,
once again,
with a blade
against your wrist
crying.
Nobody knows,
Nobody suspects,
until the morning.
When they see you dead
But no more depression,
no more sorrow
At least until
the morning of tommorrow,
when the deed is done.
But who knew such a small item,
just a blade,
could take a whole
life away?