She takes her time, choosing the bladecarefully
It must be sharp, to do it quickly.
The bathtub is full of water, the way she wanted it.
Symbolic of how she knew all traces of her would wash down the drain.
The water is cold as she steps in, like others hearts toward her.
She takes her last deep breath as she slices the knife through her delicate
cream white skin.
The blood runs through the water in an erratic pattern as she puts the blade
to her other wrist.
This cut is harder as her body slowly begins to lose its strength.
The water is now deep red, ironically portraying the passion she could have
had for life.
With all her strength gone, the knife slips through her fingers an sinks
slowly to the bottom, as does her hope for life.
She wanted to be an artist, as well as a loving wife and mother.
But all that was thrown away, as her sould flew and left her body there that
day.
Something drove her to the edge and no one noticed
No one cared.
They dismissed her as a forgotten face, an unknown.
But there was determination in her heart that day.
If she was to be forgotten, it would be by her hand, and no one could stop
her.
 
Copyright © azsweetroxy, All Rights Reserved