To Kill

As the blood rushed from her throbbing vein,
She sat with her knees in her chest,
Dissecting her body would ease her pain,
And suicide was for the best.

She was only 16 when she died that day,
Pondering about only herself,
Her mother had lost her only girl,
And her father had blamed himself.

A few days later while in her room,
Her mother found a note,
"I'm sick of the anxiety I'm going through,
I'm going to slit my throat".

Her mother sat on her sweet child's bed,
Hoping that she would appear,
She found another sickening note,
That would flood her face with tears.

"Worst of all I hate my mother",
The crumpled up paper had read,
"I'm killing myself because of her,
Soon I will be dead".

Her mother ran into the kitchen,
And found a butchers knife,
She carved the blade into her skin,
Ending all of her strife.

A broken family is all that's left,
From this once a cheerful home,
Mother and daughter both are dead,
And a father left all alone.