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Striving for desire, struggling with life. Eyes filled with fire, holding her knife. She brushes the blade softely against her skin. She curses in pain, and knows she'll never win. Crimson creating a puddle on the floor. The pain, the blood, she's starving for more. She cuts a little deeper, The blood running steeper. The tremble in her arm, the blood turning warm. She closes her eyes And thinks of his lies. ''Why didnt you tell me, This isn't meant to be'' She thinks of him in anger,as she carelessly slashes her throat. She is almost motionless on the floor, in blood she wrote, ''This is meant no be, For she took him away from me''
