Finally Free

Once again, she’s lost within herself
And again, she doesn’t know what the fuck to do
People say to go die, should she take their suggestion?
She thinks she should, but then again, she doesn’t know what to do
She blasts her beautiful music to block out the pain and torture her ears consume every single fucking day
She just doesn’t understand why people care so much
She’s on the floor crying hysterically
She’s falling lower and lower as her fairly short life goes on
Why is she even here?
Can anyone answer that?
She’s out of control at this point and no one, no one gets it
Is there anyone out there that can heal and mend all the pain and hurt that she’s gone through for the past fourteen fucking years of her life?
How long until she’ll be okay?
Will she ever be?
So many questions, and she gets no answers whatsoever
Will she ever?
Well, she loves him
But there’s no possible way to would ever work out
She also loves another
Everyone tells her that he really doesn’t feel the same about her as she does him
But she’s heard differently and she’s confused with love by now
She’ll have to get over it somehow, anyway, even if it kills her
It kills her to not be so free and careless like a normal person is
She’s so overwhelmed with hatred and confusion
She aches with pain
She can’t take the pain and torment for much longer
Maybe she’ll be loved one day
“Don’t expect anything to come” she whispers silently into this empty place of torture
She fakes a smile everyday
Will someone help her get out of this hell?
All she’s going is going in circles and she just can’t stop it
She goes through the days, trying to stop from going insane
She just doesn’t feel pretty anymore and she doesn’t know why
She just wants to give up and just leave this ugly, dark place where no one understands
She feels as if she must give up sooner rather than later at this point
It’s just too late for her
She’s can’t take it anymore
Her feelings turned out to be true
Wow, that’s a first
No one can help her anymore
She’s done with this shit, she just can’t take it
She finds her beautiful sharp razor
She starts to shed tears as she places the sharp object up to her beautiful scarred wrist
She’s so angry with herself that she starts to cut deeper and deeper, harder and harder
She bleeds and bleeds until there’s nothing left to pour out
She’s immediately happy and satisfied with herself
And with one last gasping breath, her sentence is sounded
“I am now. .free. .at. . .las. .”
She couldn’t even finish this
But how beautiful does she look?
How beautiful she looks in a puddle of her own fucking blood
Staining the new wood finish that was just redone this past April
As she lies there, she is finally free

October 2005