My nails are painted as black as the midnight sky,
My hair, cut short---bleached
I sit comfortably on my hardened mattress
The words on the page begin to look the same
Red, red, red
The blood drips slowly from my fingertips.

I would like to say that I feel lonely in this place,
That I feel misery has finally found it's company
Yet I find that even alone,
I am suffocating
These walls are slowly closing in on me,
And I can't find a reason to stop them.