The Question

Blood rolled down her arm as she cut herself with the blade.

she was sick of the same question flowing through her brain

every minute of every day

the question that made her want to scream

the question that made her want to kill somebody

the question that made her want to kill herself

She set down the razor and picked up the knife

She felt the blood pour down all over her body

She felt life pour out with it

she quietly whispered for the last time

as the wind blew through her hair

DOES ANYBODY CARE?????