The blood in her veins run cold for ice
Another bad year has yet to begin
her lovely face hides behind a mask of black hair
Thorns and needles prick through her skin
She walks through the hall
head bowing down
Populars walk by
And shes pushed to the ground
She runs to the bathroom and finds the thorns and needles
Sticks them in her wrist and ignores the painful pinch
But as she hits a vein it hurts so bad and bleeds so much
that she has to flinch
Drops to the floor
without thinking twice
her eyes shut and she turns pale white
The blood from her veins leak through the lines in the tile, cold as ice
