| Suicidal. Dec/28/95 She walk's down the street and think's, of how it will end. About her life, about her family and friends, about you. She walk's in the door, up the stairs, into the bathroom. She turns the taps, the steam rises, her clothes fall to the floor. She say's to herself "good-bye", as she puts the razor to her wrist, it goes in deep, she pulls down, she cries out in pain. She goes to the other wrist, pulls down and cries. The water is red like her lips once were, but now so pale. So familiar, Because she is me. ~Chrystyna~ |
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