She makes a gash on her thigh, a slit on her wrist, she cuts up her shoulders and slices her hips. She ropes up her neck, it burns her throat, she says, What the heck, Im all out of hope. She doesnt care, she wasnt a fighter. Her very last breath on a cigarette and a lighter. She had fallen on her blood stained bed, on her pillow was her cold pale head. Her family would mourn for weeks to come, because their precious daughter had died so young.
Posted on: Wed, 12 Mar 2014 13:12:45 +0000
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