She makes that first slash,
and then a second.
three, four, five,
The blood slowly trickles down her wrist,
six, seven, eight,
With each exhale she cut deeper
nine, ten, and now it won't stop.
The little girl thought nothing of what she'd done.
Who will kiss her boyfriend and tell him he is loved
who will tell her friend it's not her fault
who will hold her parents and let them know she'll be watching over them
But who was there to let her know they care?