Consumed by her misery

She bled her pain away.

And in a world so cold,

No one cared what she had to say.

With memories that could take a life

Replaying through her head,

They went on and on -- on and on,

Because the voices wanted her dead.

She took to the pen,

To run and hide.

Because what else could she do,

When everything you try to forget

Catches up and follows you?

She turns another page

And realizes she'd never forget.

Because the pen and paper that talked of hope,

Showed her, her life was not a threat.

It told of life without the cyanide,

It showed her new perspectives

From far and wide.

It gave her the light

That he blew away,

And made her want to live another day.