Maybe she would AgeAnd of many yearsDieBut one option she could not TakeWas ridding herself ofLife She would ScratchAnd rip her SkinCausing damage that could onlyScar She would cryTears dripping quickly She would begKnees scraping against the groundYet she would Wake Arms clearLimp goneBlood washed off the floorAnd the routine would Repeat   


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741