Deeper and deeper
And deeper still
The blade is sliding
As the crimson oozes
Through the broken skin
Pressure is released
Sighing in satisfaction
A sly smile creeps onto her face
This is what she wants
The bathroom floor is the grave
She hopes for

There's the other wrist
The creamy white flesh
It's just calling
To be like the other one
Slowly and carefully
She presses the ruddy blade
Deep into her skin
Again she bleeds
And again she feels relief
If she's done it right
Maybe she'll die this time

A cold rush sweeps over her body
She slides down onto the white tiled floor
Amongst the pools of blood
Still she is smiling
She knows it is happening
Death is welcoming her
Into his safe haven
The door is open
She can see the aura
All she must do
Is walk towards the warm light