Funeral

Unsure of life unsure of herself she picks up the blade. She stares into nothing yet sees it all. Her past her present and her short attended funeral. The pressure she feels can not get worst, what's expected from her cannot go higher she places the blade to her wrist. So close so very very close. She can almost feel her freedom. And within a slice of her wrist she began to dance with her freedom. Dancing slowly fading away, the pressure is lifted the expectations are zero. As she closes her eyes her present becomes her future.