Tears in her eyes as she writes, but won't speak,
The day turns to night but she still is weak.
She sits at the desk, a pen poised in her hand,
Her mind is lost; she can't even stand.
Her vision is blurred by the tears that will stay
All through the night and into the day,
The thoughts in her head she once could say
Are building up; she can't keep them at bay.
Her mind once clear of thoughts, so small,
Is filling up; she can't think at all.
The pen in her hand shaking from fear,
She finishes the word and a droplet, a tear,
Falls from her cheek as she leans on the desk,
Feeling clueless; she needs some rest.
The painful expression always in place,
She looks at the image of her lover's face.
Waves of emotion break down her heart--
Piece by piece, she's falling apart.
The pen in the pot with similar kinds,
She gets up from the chair and pulls down the blinds.
Once flat and toned, but now is round,
She rolls up her sleeve and sits on the ground.
The blade in her hand, sharp and ready,
Her hand is shaking, her movements unsteady
As her flesh, once smooth, pale and clear,
Is pierced with the tip; there are no tears.
Nothing is felt as she slashes her skin,
The blood is dripping as she commits the sin.
Movement inside her produces a pause;
The thing inside her-- the main, big cause.
Ignoring the feeling of the light, little kicks,
She switches hands, the blood coming quick
As her movements come slow,
Her arms fall to her sides, the blood still a-flow.
The blade falls the ground as her head becomes light;
All movements hurt, she's losing her sight.
The floor, once white, is now just red,
Her breathing's uneven, but one thought in her head
As she sees the light:
The two lovers will reunite.