She holds the blade in her hand
Knowing no one can understand
Shes sick to death
With every breath
Of such a grotesque love and hate
She knows its some what too late
She may have lost the battle but shes winning the war
Because after this there is no more
So in goes the blade with one last thrust
And there it goes a short tiny bust
Out flows the days and lies inpained
Out goes the hurt and screams refrained
Not from hurtful words they say
But from the lost lifeless days
Shes been fighting this thing for god knows how long
But she knows she isnt wrong
Blade falls from her hand
Finding it harder to stand
She falls to the bed
Twisting thoughts in her head
Some see it as weak
What seemed so far she did seek
Because theres nothing wrong you see
With killing the enemy
