And now her mind is numb
  and the atoms take the blade (or the toothpick)

And they press firmly into the wrist
  they do it for they know no better

They have no mind, or mother, for lessons now
  and the atoms take her down the hall

In the bathroom, above the porcelain
  eyes stare at the wall

And the mind grows anxious
  and the lungs ask for air

The stomach lining fizzes
  and the fingers slip down, bare

And seconds turn to minutes
  as eyes begin to drown

And down goes the anxiety
  as well as the sludge, brown

All is dizzy in a head too alone
  so she sits for a moment

To bury the bone
  and walks from the bathroom

With a secret
  and a *moan