She pressed her hand against her chest to see if her heart was still there, beating. Sure enough, it was there, but it took a little while to feel it.

black fabric was the best choice
wishing they could hear her voice
through her earbuds she listened
it drowned out thoughts as her tears glistened
death was what she wanted
love was what she hunted

If her love was a story it’d be shaped with roses and thorns
Blood on her fingertips
Blood on her lips
Blood on her hips
All because of the cuts they left
But they were so pretty she thought she could trust them
Looks are deceiving
They all leave me bleeding
And maybe she would never learn
Not to touch the fire, it burns

she sat in the kitchen floor
wishing she hadn’t said anything more
she knew it was coming
but she didn’t expect him to leave so soon

Why don’t you talk to her
Is it because of the
Way that she feels
Is that
The reason they go
She can not help that these
All of these feelings
They crawl up
And cut out her throat
What is your deal? What is your problem?
And now she’s falling straight down, into the clouds, trying to end it
Look in the mirror
Hope to see herself clearer
But as far as she can see
It’s only a fog
Bring her to life again
Pull out your knife again
Repeat the process
Until she goes