The razor in her hand is not a simple blade
the cuts on her body were man-made.
She cuts away to escape her pain
laughing at all the voices inside her brain.
Depression, atrophy, and self-loathing are her friends
she never found the way, the way to make amends,
Used up and thrown away by everyone she knew
no more of this, your reign is now through.
With everything she’s got, inside of her now
she pushes the blade farther, fulfilling the vow.
She watches the blood, drip from her arm
knowing this is it-you can’t do any harm
She looks around and begins to cry
Tears and blood-asking herself Why?
She never wanted to die, but all of this
you drove her to it; sealed it with a kiss
I hope you’re happy and like what you did
you’ll get the same, and soon we’ll be rid.
People like you I love to hate
you’ll be destroyed by a reputable fate.