She sits in the corner,
Crying herself to sleep.
Wrapped around in promises,
No one seems to keep.
Black mascara smudges,
Stain her cheek.
As she whispers to herself,
'Why am I so weak?'
'I HATE MY LIFE' She yells,
As she pulls out a knife.
'I should just put an end,
to this miserable life.'
The blade she uses,
glides along her wrist,
drawing pictures,
with dark & mysterious twists.
~ Rhiannon Angus
