She wrote her words with her blood,
all her scars were fixed points
in the night sky,
waiting to be solved.
Her deepening desire to free her mind
Drove her quite insane.
the things she kept hidden in the brain
were none she could find answers.
The night often prolonged,
And words grew heavy in her mouth.
The hand never had so much exhaustion
When given the chance to write a page.

She buried herself in work
To forget her own existence and problems.
But long were the nights that pain caught her by the shoulders and shook her.
Long were the nights wet with tears and blood.
It was long since she'd felt herself,
But even longer since she felt content.