She sat alone,
Like she always did at home,
Where her screams were silent,
But her mind was violent.
Her insecurities hid deep inside
And everyday they would eat her alive.
As tears rolled down her face
Her heart began to race.
She took her blade and made the familiar tapestries on her skin
Where her depression lied deep within.
This went on for days, months, years;
Until she cried her very last tears.
She decided that she had enough.
She didn't want the world to put her in mental handcuffs.
So she took a gun to her head.
Congratulations society.
She is dead.

***

"Suicide isn't cowardly. I'll tell you what's cowardly; treating people so badly that they want to end their lives."

~Ashley Purdy