The Day She Stopped

I have a friend that has a secret
and only a few know.
I am one of them and this tells what she does not show.

The problem that this young girl has
is easier to tell you,
if i show you how it happened from her point of view:

"I love to read 'Eragon'
because inside the bind,
hides a tiny little razorblade that no one else will find.

I dont know why i do this.
I dont know why I would
All I know is when I do it, I feel as if i should.

The sharp edge touches my skin.
I drag it across my wrist.
The blood appears in a thin line, and I make a fist.

The pain helps with my problems,
these unknown problems that i feel.
These scars show how i feel as if, I will never heal.

But maybe i will get better,
because of a boy that i will tell.
Maybe he can help me get through this living hell.

I have another secret.
My scars are hard to hide.
So now I do it on my legs where no one sees the razor slide.

But now i will tell this boy,
who i know will give a loving hand.
For he hopes that I will realize that he truly understands.

Now he has 'Eragon'.
He holds the blade for me,
so i cannot slice this blade and now, i can clearly see.
I can see how much he cares and how much he loves me."

I am the boy who loves her so
and helped her reach the top.
That is what she says at least,
she says i helped her stop.