It looked up at me with grey eyes of disappointment
Of words spoken, and promises broken.
It's skin damp with tears of anger.  
It's skin red with coloured tears of destruction.

Deteriorating on the inside,
She thought she might not live to see another day,
But with the power she held in her dainty hand,
Who knew if she would live to see another second.

She'd sit in her room for days at a time,
Wondering how she had let that tiny blade take over her life.
Contemplating ending that life forever;
But which one. That is the question.