During the day she is full of
Laughter;
Smiles;
Cheerfulness;
And everything positive.

But at night, when she's all alone
In her cold dark room; they become
Louder and louder.

Screaming at her, telling her she's not enough..

She draws on her wrists, along with her thighs and ankles hoping to ease the pain;

It used to ease it until she became obsessed with the blood.


An perfect Angel during the day,
An fallen Angel at nightfall.

I'm losing,
My sword is slipping,
This war is getting harder to fight,
and I don't think I'm winning anymore!

Blood is dripping down my arms,
as I grip onto my sword as tight as I can,
but it's not working,
nothing is working anymore,
and once I've completely let the sword go,
then it's all.. over, I'll no longer exist in this world.

I will never wake up again,
but.. I don't want to die,
I'm scared and terrified to die,  
but at the same time I want to die.
and I want to give up, let it all go,
but I can't seem to bring myself to
pull the trigger, or stab the knife into my heart.

Five suicide attempts, but each always fail.
Is it because they all flash into my head?
all the people that I will hurt if I go through with it?

I'm so tired of fighting in this war,
it's nothing but bloodshed; my own blood, no one else.
Will someone help me hold my sword, or will it slip?
And it the blink of an eye; I will no longer be alive?