She sit there with the razor in her hand
every scare tells a Story
while blood Stains the carpet the thunder keeps Roaring
she just wants to escapes so she cuts deep with a razor
Wishing it will end her pain
but the rain just keep pouring
mascara running down her Face
the lighting keeps cracking
thunderstorm in the kitchen intoxicated
she trying to block out noise of bottles shattering
her body shaken what she is about to do
she picks up the pen her hands trembling
lays her head on the pillow
life draining from her arm
falling into a unconscious state of mind where she feels free at last
no more long sleeves in the school halls getting called names that she shouldn't of got called
no more coming back home to lighting..Her..thunderstorm,