And she rolls around, cluthing her head,
Moaning and screaming.
Her demons come in the form of brands and stingers,
Squeezing her chest until it might burst.
Her mind snaps and there is nothing but the suffocation, and the plea for it to
And when she thinks,
I am going to my closet with a belt,
I am going to the bathroom with a bottle of pills,
I am going to my bath tub with a knife,