Pain's Game

Her Pain, is not a game
But she plays game with
The sharp edges of her shiny
Razorblade a game of chicken
With her valuable veins
A pain mistaken as she leaves
Her crimson stained jacket on her
Bathroom floor, she breathes deeply
As her wrist becomes more and more
sore her numbed body now lying
on the cold floor taking her last breath
she says goodbye with a lisp she closes her
eyes and laid still.