Over-dosing Kills

She doesnt know what's going on, she feels so confused,
For once she does not feel betrayed or even used,
And yet, each night she still takes the razor to her wrist,
She watches the blood roll down; as the pain reminds her she still exists.

She finally feels happy, something is going right,
Yet she still seems to struggle, each and every night.
She finds it hard to survive, even when she is fine,
Maybe, this depression has pulled her over the line.

Confused, and alone, she doesn't want to confide,
So she sits in her room, with her blade and she hides,
One cut after the next, until she can not take it any more.
When she tries to stand up, she falls to the floor.

She wakes up in a panic, wondering what went wrong.
Why am I still alive, when I can not stay strong?
Why didn't I succeed, in my own suicide?
I thought this was the time, and I wish I had died.

Her friends start to wonder, what is going on?,
Is she okay? Will she stay strong?
Never will they know, what she went through that night,
And how many other times, she lost all strength to fight.

She will keep her burden hidden, so no one will ever know,
That when she gets home, she feels all alone.
That each night she hides, and watches blood run down her arm,
That all along, she's been hiding her self-harm.

They won't know, until she cuts too deep,
With the blood gushing out, she will fall into a deep sleep,
They'll never be able to wake her, because she took to many pills,
Intentionally of Corse, because she knows that overdosing kills.