She'Ll Sob Poem by Anna Ballard

The razor dances on her palm,
Taunts her with it's cruel remarks.
'It'll be quick,
Just one more time, ' she reminds herself.

Slowly it glides.
Fearlessly it slides.
It tells of broken dreams,
A lifetime of disappointment.

She begs for it to stop,
Or enough courage within her
to press down harder,
And end it all.

The blood flows down her arms,
Her stomach,
Her thighs,
Until it puddles at her feet.

Perhaps she'll smirk, and feel accomplished-
For once in her screwed up life.
But, most likely, she'll sob-
And feel the exact opposite.