A girl sits quietly on her bed,
Thoughts whirling in her head.
She can’t take it anymore,
Though it’s happened all before.

Homework strewn about her bed,
Right next to a stain of red.
Thoughts of her mistakes fly by,
Though she was not strong enough to cry.

Her hand grasps something under her mattress,
She knew just how to sort out this mess.
She pulls out a small pocketknife,
A small blade that controls her life.

Up her arm her sleeve goes,
A tingling feeling from her head to her toes.
She could see the scars from her before,
What she did behind her locked door.

As the blade touched her skin,
She thought, is this how it should have been?
She knew like this she could never be at peace,
But for now this was her sweet release.

Blood now trickled from the cut,
She ignored the feeling in her gut.
This cut joined with several more,
Just as outside rain began to pour.

Soon a bloody letter H appeared,
Followed by a feeling she most feared.
She knew what she needed now,
But what the girl didn’t know was how.

Now, carved in her flesh, a word could be seen,
Covered by her sleeve, only she knew what it would mean.
The H had been followed by an E-L-P,
A feared word where only she could see.
 
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