Calm as can be
Far from like winning the lottery.
She waits till late at night
So no one can hear her screams of delight.
She has the blade held tightly in her hand
Letting it rest, barely touching her cream white skin.
She thinks back to her horrible past
And starts the first slice slowly, letting the pain last.
This is what she wants
Or at least what she think she wants.
But it is far too late,
She has already sliced deep into her other wrist.
She is swimming in sweet pain bliss.
The pain calms her.
Her strength is whinning down now
The blade slowly falls to the ground.
For this is then end
And she loves it as does her so called friends.
 
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