The blood splatters into the ashes

of her “normal life”
it drips from her arms
so skinny and hurt
from the self harm
her mind flutters between
pain and pleasure
as she’s walking between the thin line
of life and death
Death as sinister as it is
he passes right through her
with out a second glance
leaving her
soaking in the white room
fading into a light sleep
as her hate keeps pushing
the blood out of her scars
the blood of an innocent
bleeds out so hard
everyday for her is a day in hell
the scars haunt her body
driving her to harm herself again
still her heart is so damn harsh
but beneath that is the soul of innocence
trapped in a shell of a body
with no where to go
every corner of this cold life
is another hand
grasping the knife running it across her thigh
she’s used to it
it’s her normal life
it breaks my heart
every time I look into her eyes
they are similar to the shade of mine
I’m not taking about color
so I can see what others cant
she’s beautiful 
All I want to do is to help her through
but I’m just a writer
it’s her life
I hate to wait
until she comes to me
and asks me while whispering
if she can talk to me
If I can save her
or if I could just listen
I’ll do whatever I can
to never see the blood an innocent
….again

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