She picks up the tiny sharp object,
only to put it back down.
She tries to forget, but only reflects,
so much that she wants to drown.
They think she won’t break
but, oh lord, do they not know?
“I need to explain,” her hand shakes,
“My lowly tale of woe.”
Her heart is a drumbeat beating,
the rhythm is slow and steady.
“Why is life so bittersweet?”
She writes and clutches her teddy.
Hurt has left her feeling alone,
everyone else has done the same.
She wished she hadn’t picked up the phone
that cold september day.
“Slut” the phone spoke,
the words piercing her heart.
“*****” her heart broke,
splitting into four parts.
One part of her heart is hurt,
it remembers painful words.
Even ones so small and curt,
those ones her heart still heard.
Two parts are full of hate,
for those who caused her pain.
On her shoulders is a heavy weight
and anger courses through her veins.
The last part is full of knowing,
the memories are so defined.
And although the drumbeat is slowing;
knowledge, she’ll leave behind.
“Goodbye, cruel world,” she wrote,
“I’m afraid I’m dying of heartbreak.”
That was the last pained little note
that the poor girl would ever make.