It’s just another day she has to live, another day of staying in this existence. It’s just part of the plan she says, all she wants to feel is the blade. He left with her all these memories, and now she can’t walk away. She crumbles under the weight. It’s so easy to make you break, it’s so easy to make her cry. It’s not easy to be her, all the blood, being alone with the questions from her heart. It’s so easy to laugh at your misery. She’s so alone, broken and torn, she’s just alone in this dark room.
They notice the scars, they notice the stories, but they never truly care. They pretend to listen, and it’s all jokes and laughs until they find her body on the floor. To poor to notice, she wasn’t just another pretty face, she had a name… At least she used to. It’s only minutes till she passes away, it’s just another cut, another stab in the chest. She stopped caring about what they said, she took it all in stride… She turns to the blade, It makes it seem okay. She looks into the mirror, and all she sees is the mess that is her life. She knows her life is about to end, it’s so sad to see another die off to the taunts of the world.
Scared of the world, she hides in her room. Ignoring all the reality around her. Now all she has is a story to tell, a plain book with a pretty cover. It’s all she was ever known for. A simple story with a tragic ending, it’s so easy to say… But in my eyes she wasn’t a waste, she was lost, she was alone in this cold world. I will always remember her name, even if history forgets, I will always remember her name. Now it’s just a world with one less person, one less pretty face. It’s so sad to see her go, but her story remains.
Her last night, she cried herself to death. All she had was a blood in her hands, and a knife in her heart. She tried to resemble with the world did to her. It’s such a sad sight to see. She just had to end the pain, that’s all she needed to do. No medicine to help her cope, to words could help her stop. All we have is her story, and most people will forget in time.