she takes the razor into her small cold hands and touchs the
blade lightly with her fingers, as if to check just how
sharp it really is, and when it cuts her finger she looks at
the blood rushing out of her body.


it has become some kind of a habit , a bad habit, to feel
nothing , to go numb and scream at blinded walls and
people.
only these are not real screams , they are words dripping
out of her mouth.


she's not beautiful, it hurts
she's not alive, it hurts
he tells her he loves her, it hurts
she goes to school, it hurts
she talks to people, it hurts
nothing hurts less or more, it's pain and it can't be given
the right words.

as she see the blood rushing out of her she thinks of him,
how beautiful he is
he never broke her heart but she's been broken from before.
she holds the blade tighter and she let it run on her white
skin and she closes her eyes feeling the pain rush into her
body and into her mind.

she passes the day by being alive, she does things, she
walks among them looking different, feeling nothing, they
scrach her serfhes, they look but they never see how inside
everything is empty.

she just's dead, those people can't see it, she's just
dead...no one can see.


as the blade cuts deeper into her she listens to her
emptiness checking if it's still there or will it wake up
and breathe again.
she hears nothing.
she let her tears fall , dripping across her face and she
can see his empty look meeting her's and comfort is too far
away.


she cuts herself to feel her pain, to stop thinking about
it, to kill it
to let herself go....it takes alot of blood.....
but what is blood, the thing that keeps u alive, and who
want's that anyway, being alive means no light.

they talk to her, her tears keeps on running and she sings.
she tells them so much but they won't listen.
they dont care enough to dig into her.

she passes out into wishful thinking, but she's not
dead.....love keeps her
breathing and as long as he stays she will not let her
suffering end.
and the blade cuts deeper..................