she runs outside without a sound
he'd be much happier without her around
she's gripping the blade as tight as she can
it's not nearly enough, as it slices her hand
she looks into the lake
she felt like nothing, she wasn't anything great
then she slowly rolls up her sleeve
this was the last time her wrists would be blood free
as she closes her eyes, she swears she can see his face
she holds the blade to her wrist, resting on top of a vein
she just wanted to be pretty, just to be smart
this is it, she thought, as the blade went into her arm
the only person in her life she had truly needed
left her for someone better, she sat there, bleeding
she was still alive as the night enveloped the sky
with red eyes and crimson wrists, she wanted too die
then she quickly looked around to see if anyone was near
she's sliced thru a vein, she bleeds, she's dead, right here
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You write with intensity and great emotion.