Down The Rose Thorn
It Gradually Drips Below...

When I think about suicide
It just feels too right...

How come I cannot display my portrayal
Am so ashamed of what I have become...

How Come I cannot write
What I really feel Inside...

Screaming and crying of the little kids
The screeching of the slide from water skids...

Same face I see staring in the reflection
The scars of tears remain enclosed by skin...

He slowly slips the ring onto my finger
But it slides right off as soon as the blood...

My wrists cry tore veins and slashed skin
Tears the color of red, cascade fast...

As the blade pierces my frail skin
I start to feel the pain rush within...

Secrets of guilt blanket my solitary heart
The truth laid happily once but ripped apart...

He sinks his fangs into my neck
A sign of affection from his own...

She bites her delicate crimson lips
Savoring the warm blood streaming...