Don't tell a rose how to grow,
And The birds how to chirp.
Don't tell your daughter to be soft,
Don't tell your son how to hurt.

Don't tell the sky what color to bleed,
And a person, the right way to grieve.
Don't try to tame your daughter's tongue,
Don't tell your son the manly ways to love.

Don't tell the wind which way to blow
Or the clouds how hard to rain.  
Don't teach your daughter how to soak,
Don't show your son how to easily reject.

Don't tell the sun to adjust its light
Or the truth how to show itself.
Don't tell your daughter it's feminine to shy,
Don't teach your son how to reign with fists held high.


Don't tell a heart how to beat
Or the mind how not to soar.
Don't clip off your daughter's  wings,
To make them a foundation for your son to grow.

Don't tell a rose how to grow,
Lest it decides to turn its petal into thorns.
Don't tell the birds how to chirp
And have their voices turn into rebellious growls.

My tear ducts began to burn,
The sensation turns into a steady fall of tears
As a gloss comes across my eyes, I began to wonder what I have done wrong,
Who I hurt and how me being alive is so god awfully wrong.
As tears roll down my cheeks my veins began to  protrude out of my skin.
They call to me, they want to be free
I quickly grab a cold metal blade and began to draw a straight line.
I start with the creases at my wrist and work my way down, the pain burns,
Nothing will ever quite burn as bad as it did that night.
I put my arms into the deep water that lay before me as it began to turn a blood stained red.
I panic, but soon begin to calm.
The water is completely red now, my toe nail polish which was once a bright white, so pure, had been stained a dark, screaming red.
I'm calm, my eyes glazed like a dark night sky.
My skin begins to turn a pale white, I exhale my final breath, and the dark water lie still.