Blood
Its soothing really. when she thinks about it.
Running down her arms in a uniform red line
coating her fingers and staining her pale skin
and oh how it washes away
leaving vapor trails in her mind of the way the red seems to invade everything
Sometimes she thinks its the only part of her truly alive
its the only part that can make an impact anyway
no one will notice the stain of memories
or the clash of waisted breath on tired cries
but the raw red rush of 2 am fuck ups
is harder to ignore
the sign on her door that reads "kill me"
is a sign of her angst never taken literally
such a shame she thinks that they could never see the beauty
of hot, fresh and stingingly honest razor blade appologies shes made to herself 
this life, she thinks, its fleeting, not staying still for a moment
but iim stuck in this place in my mind with this blood stuck in my viens
when surly, obviously its dieing, just as she is, to get out


It calls to me.
the sweet light bliss of nothingness.
because thats what it is.
The univerise is too indiferent to everything fucking else for this to not be it
but these assholes who i consider to love will insist
that i remain in this hell i live
because they do not understand what i would give
to simply, not be here.