Monday, Dec. 23, 2002/8:57 pm

Death wish

Cris Cross Patterns indented on bare knees.

Huddled in the corner of the bathroom.

Cold skin against blue and white vinyl.

The sound of water running through pipes.

As she flushes away her pain,

again and again.

-

Freezing metal over numb flesh.

Exposed bones alight to the sharp sensation,

ripping through the surface of her fears.

Blood cascades down distorted limbs,

dripping non stop from jaged wounds.

Carving up her body piece by piece.

-

Red paint begins to stain the space around her,

never ending flood of tears.

So tired of being strong,

when she feels so weak.

The scarlet keeps running,

but she stays awake.

Frail but open eyed.

-

It won't let her leave.

No matter how hard it gets,

how deep the river lies,

she's not allowed,

to let go.

Always wishing

she could.