Blood And Ink Stained

She's covering the walls in blood with her razorblade,
inking up pages of poetry with drops of blood from the wounds,
covering up all of her cuts with long sleeve shirts and bracelets,
her friends just call her names and laugh at her stupidity.

She was so in love with someone once; such a pure love,
when he left her all alone in a world of demons and fears,
she turned to her blade for the comfort she never got,
started with a few cuts that turned into stitches being needed.

She's covering the walls with blood from these cuts,
inking up her diary with words of frighting sights,
wishing for revenge on the man who took it all from her,
but only finding peace and revenge on herself with a blade.

She was such a sweet girl who cared about every person,
willing to give every dime away to a homeless person in need,
always willing to give the shirt off her back to a friend's comfort,
hoping for someone to feel willing to open up to; talk to freely.

The walls are covered in the last of her blood that was left,
her body is lying lifeless on page that's so inked up with words,
her arms left inked stained from the still wet words she wrote,
the only thing that was left to say was that she loved him till this day.