The Last Cut

The drip, drip of her sticky tears...

The strong grip of her darkest fears.

The aching of her endless pain.

The pulsing of her blood filled vein.

The razor held inside her palm.

The heart’s heartbeat staying gentle and calm.

The hot liquid slipping off of her arm,

The dark emptiness never raising alarm.

The swirling pink pool in the sink.

The anguish giving her time to think.

The clarity entering into her mind.

The certainty she's been trying to find.

The suspense of air when she should turn back...

The light is what she’s always lacked.

The last feeling leaving from her soul,

The deepness of her new black hole.

The pounding on the bathroom door,

If only they could have done… more.