She’s the girl, who never wanted a friend,
The girl who wished for her life to come to an end.
She’s the girl who slept with a razor in her bed,
Hoping that one-day it’ll cut to deep and she’d finally be dead.
She hated life and she hated herself,
She was determined to be just another faded memory on the shelf.
She loved pain and loved the color red,
But she loved it even more every time she bled.
She would laugh and pretend to be fine,
But deep down inside she hoped that someone would hear her whine.
She was breaking and slowly dying inside,
She was amazed at how much long sleeves and fake smiles could hide.
She felt like she was lost and was never going to be found,
But no body even chose to look around.
She was alone and she was ready to be done,
she was standing in that special spot holding a gun.
She read that tombstone and tried to be brave,
Her mothers name carved deep inside that grave.
She began cry and the last thing she managed to say,
‘’Don’t worry momma, I’m on my way!’’
The sound of the gun was the last thing she heard,
But every body else heard her last word.