No one truly knew her...
I doubt she even knew herself
But when her note was found
gripped in her cold hand
I found out then
how much she meant to me
and how much I meant to her

It was only a dull Sunday
she decided to stay at home
with her memories insidious
leading the scars
from her arms to her heart
The deepest cut was ache
she felt her whole life

She lay quietly with the razor
gently tearing into her flesh
When the crimson cascaded
she felt the euphoria rush
and briefly eclipse the pain

But she didn’t stop
her tears was tainted by her blood
upon her confession
the creased paper that held her last words
The weight of the world fell
and crashed all around her

Some say she was desperate
that she was shunned by those she loved
No one heard her cries for help
and she couldn’t bear the silence

But what I realised
as I read her last words
The person she loved dearly
who pushed her away
because he didn’t want to watch her all apart

That person, that person

That person was me

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