Her reason why

A perfect line turns bright red,
with a muffled cry;
and many words are left unsaid,
except her reason why.

The pain is real,
oh hot and searing love.
The very thing she needs to feel,
to put her self above.

Above the names,
and all the hurt.
Higher then all her shames,
to keep herself alert.

She is safe within that perfect line,
drawn with ease and care.
The only place she feels fine,
her perfect little prayer.

And with her blue eyes shut so tight,
she whispers out her warning;
"This is how I spend my night,
So I'm still here in the morning..."

A perfect line turns bright red,
with a muffled cry;
and many words are left unsaid,
except her reason why.