she slams her bedroom door
she can't take this anymore
the yelling and the screaming
the terrible suicidal dreaming
she needs to feel alive
she pulls out her butterfly knives
she finally picks out the sharpest one
then she pulls out her hand gun
wondering how she wants to die
she has second thoughts and starts to cry
quickly she wipes the liquid from her cheek
she picks the knife and chooses to go weak
as the thought of death runs through her mind
she throws her family and friends behind
as her heart rate starts to climb
she can no longer waste anymore time
she turns up her music all the way
she begins and listens to anthem of our dying day
the blade then touches the skin of her wrist
the pain starts and she clinches her fist
now as the blood trickles down her arm
coldness takes over her body that was once warm
once it clicks in that death is now near
the wells of her eyes fill up with tears
then she's too weak and collapses on the floor
now all the pain she was once filled with is no more
 
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