She came to my door, tears streaming down her face.
In her blabbering, she only spoke six words clearly,
"I don't belong in this place"

As I led her inside
I noticed the blood streaming down her wrist
I cut my sentence short and replied

Silence and ice cream
Same thing I got when I tried to hang out.
At the bottom of the bowl I saw her face gleam.

We hadn't spoke since she spat "******"
As our connection  leaked into the air,
I whispered "murderer"

As she lay leaking through band-aids and bandages
The red made me think of love
and how the feeling of hate has it's balances