Her vains are starting to run die,
She not longer has tears to cry,
Her body has scars all around,
But still no one makes a sound,
This is her only way of having control,
The only time she gets the read roll.

After school she hurrys home,
and in her arm in graves a poem,
"the flowers are dying and so is my heart,
I can feel my world falling apart"

She feels as if she is such a disgrace,
As tears are running down her face,
And her friends that once were there,
Never really took the time to care,
If in class she has a breakdown they just roll their eyes around.

This isnt how she wanted life,
She never wanted it to come where she lives by the knife,
But this way she has a say to live or die,
And shes one step closer with ever night cry.

Then one day she takes a look at herself,
Knowning its to late for help,
For a few hours she just sits there and cries,
Then she finally dries her eyes,
She sits there thinking of all the ways to die,
So can she can pick one to try.

She soon starts righting her good-bye note,
and this is what she had wrote:

Sorry was never said,
so lets see who cares if im dead,
dont think this was my first try,
it wouldnt be yours either if every night you ran home to cry.

Maybe nothing is too clear,
But to what i had to say no one took the time to hear,
Everyone just pushed me away,
Not listening to a word id say.

I hope you know there were things you do,
The real reason i am dead is because of each and everyone one of you,
I hope you feel good for being the reason i died,
The reason i cut my wrist, and cried.

All that was ever needed was a little advise,
Maybe then i would have thought twice,
So this is my last good-bye,
I wonder if anyone really understands why,
So take a look out at the back tree,
and hanging there is where ill be.

Love Always,
Taken Away

 
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