The gun wasn't loaded
and lay quite untouched
but the floor was still soaked 
without care.
The razors were clean
stored away in the cabinet
but the marks on her wrists
are still there.
Her eyes were glazed over
to hide the sweet brown
but the pain in their depths
froze the pair.
Her skin has gone pale
and colder than ice
though there rarely was warmth
to begin.
Her torso is scarlet 
and coated in blood
so stark against
her white skin.
Her soft throat is slit
so that she would bleed out
to escape all the pain
held within.

~April 29, 2011~
~ShatteredScribe~