The blade cuts through her skin,
Like glass shattering on rock,
Finding it’s too hard,
She can’t stop,
Wrist so weak,
That she can’t speak,
Skin ripping,
Blood dripping,
Wrist hurts,
She falls to the dirt,
And weeps,
Goes home,
And sleeps,
Wakes up,
And she goes over the,
Scars again and again,
That cruel word,
Stay in her head,
While her bed,
Becomes a river of red,
The blade cuts through her skin.
