Depression.

As the light dims,
into a dark night sky,
she sits staring out her window,
left alone to cry.

No one understands her,
yet they don't seem to try,
it's hard for her to be happy,
with no wings to fly.

Cuts and scars,
upon her boney wrist,
wanting to be taken away,
into the breath taking mist.

Walking into her room,
no sound, but the creak of her door,
as she thinks to herself,
what's left to live for?

Yet again,
she takes a knife from the drawer,
slides the blade down her arm,
feeling nothing but the blood pour.

Wishing she had a friend,
someone to share her feelings with,
but she believed in no such thing,
to her it was just a myth.

She can't take it anymore,
always depressed and sad,
only wanting someone to talk to,
that someone she's never had.

She's had enough,
her life is just a lie,
pulling the trigger to her head,
gone forever, it's her last goodbye.