One drop led to thee end of me.
One douse was all I had left.
One tear ran through my blank face.
One pill left.
One of me on the floor.
One drop of blood hit the cold, dark tile.
One little happiness was all I had; to know that the pain is almost over.

A day of relief...
Her vulnerable body lay still, on a bed of pedals. Wilting flowers crumbled under the pool of blood around her. Dead. No one saw the pain in her eyes, the death that has occurred. She died with a smile, a tear, a mind finally in peace. The harmony  of the piano was perfect exit of her life; the tears of loved ones are released at the funeral. Her spirit watches over screaming to the mourning, asking them why they are crying, her death is a miracle not a tragedy... My death is a miracle, not a tragedy.

November 19, 2012
The chair beneath my feet; the noose around my neck, slightly tied to the end of a branch, attached to a white, dust ocean, fan. Tears pour out of my eyes, down my pail cheeks, into my shirt; soaking up the moisture of a melancholy, excruciating, life all in one drop. "Why am I here? Will anyone miss me? What the f**k did I do wrong? Why… Me?" screaming the words aloud yet, with out a sound. Telling my self every thing I have, who I have. A mother that all ways wants to help, a father that doesn't care, a little brother clueless yet, dreadful; and yet again I try to put on my "happy mask" and just smile, it doesn't work. I am dead; all of the bullying, the joking, the abuse, I cant take it anymore.