Patterns in the Snow (long, but please don't ignore)

When it gets too much will she still hesitate?
Will the desire to take her life take away the love in her soul?
If the blade just happens to be lying there who can stop her?
And if they stop her, will she forgive them, or love them for it?

She's sitting there now
Blade pressed to her cold skin
She's crying softly,
Tears slowly emerging from the hole where her heart used to be
She's screaming in pain
She loves it
Yet she hates it

She cries out for the hurt to stop, yet even when she pulls the blade away
She hurts more, and cries more
She can't help cutting deeper
She watches her blood start to run
And hears the back door open

She runs out of the front door
Out into the snow
As if the weather can numb her wounds
The blood drips
Its pretty patterns on the frozen landscape
Move her to silent sadness

He passes by and sees her there
Bleeding to death
With the ice in her soul colder than the ice at her feet
He loves her more than she will ever know
And he is scared for her
Because even he knows that he can do nothing
She is long dead

She is breathing, but not living
She cannot, will not stop the torture
And will not look into the warm depths of his eyes
She keeps cutting
She pulls the knife across the broken skin

She smiles as her pain cripples her
She is gasping for breath now, struggling to live
But is that not what she wanted?
He runs towards her, hope abandoned and knows that NO.
It is not what she wanted

She wanted him to stop her
And if only he knew it before
For her ghost is out there in his arms and he weeps
She cannot see him there, for she has long given up
And often dreams of him coming to her
So he sits and watches and loves her as he mourns her

She still makes those pretty patterns in the snow
As her cuts get deeper
..... and deeper