A slash, a scratch a cut:
all words she is quite familiar with
she sits alone and does these things
out of pure misery
over and over till she feels numb
she drops the blade
then wipes up her mess
and rocks back and forth till sleep overcomes
and dreams
quietly and softly
she tells the verdict to trusted ones
but they seem not to mind
nothing can faze her because her pain builds
more and more until she releases it
with the blade of a knife every night before bed
she pulls it out
and pauses for a moment
thinking of the mistake she is making
then rolls up the pant leg or sleeve
slowly pulls back her knife
after having done a few,
her shoulders wet with a crimson wave
sag as she sighs out loud in a relieving manner
A few more deep slashes before she is done
finds a clean spot on her rag
and wipes up the mixture of blood and tears
that covers her body
she walks to the mirror
and stares at the image of a broken and shattered girl
covered in deep, shiny red lines
she turns then, goes over to the wall
and shuts off the light
then crawls slowly across the room
and crawls into bed
she wishes herself a tearful goodnight
and before drifting off to sleep
she wonders
WHY