She sits in the corner and cries.
Hollow and empty, there's no soul left in her eyes.
Not knowing where she'd went wrong,
Hoping that the pain wouldn't last too long.
A heart filled with shame,
Her mind filled with blame.
Sitting on the floor, her life in her hands.
Quiet me, control me, the voice inside demands.
Pulling out the razor and slicing her skin.
Trying to tranquilize the voice that's living within.
Watching, as the crimson blood begins to flow.
Not knowing this time just how far she'd go.
Blood begins to pool upon the floor,
Reaching over and slashing once more.
Deliberately, the voice echo's inside her head.
Go ahead now, finish, you're better off dead.
Gradually silencing; that voice that lived within.
Never returning; for she'd just committed, her last sin.
