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?

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