Carve
She smiled slightly, looking down at her frail healed canvas, as she grabbed her razor, starting to crave the color of red on her small pale wrist. The smell enticed her and the color filled her head, She wanted the blood to drip off her wrist creating a pool below her as she started to cry, her eyes burnt, and her legs shook, lungs feeling tight, she started breathing heavily, she fell to her knees, everything hurt, she had a headache, her heart firey with rage, her knuckles bruised and bloodied from hitting a brick wall, her lungs were on fire and she felt as though she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes blurred as they filled with more tears. The words rang in her head as they echoed, she hit the floor, screaming to leave her alone. She had, had enough, she carved a deep cut in her wrist vertically that said goodbye with a harsh twisted line going through it. It hurt and she didn’t care. As she bled out on the floor she shed one more tear and smiled, and then it was black. Like she had just fallen asleep no recollection of what was going on.
