In the fall you notice leaves

that are hanging on the trees,

noisily moving in the gentle breeze.

All the leaves hang lowly

through the night

as if they’re poisoned,

the leaves and trees alike.

They are dying slowly,

For the first time, in her selective memory

she lies in bed, alone

without a light or heartbeat to keep her company.

Her heart beats, in rhythm with her thoughts.

She barely knows the way to her own door

My Soul yells at me

I’m dying inside

wishing that I felt no pain

but It keeps coming

I take the pills

of pain and hate

to wish it all away

when the pills

wear off

I slit

my wrist

she cuts and bleeds to fell the pain

she cuts and bleeds, it leaves a stain

she cuts and bleeds everyday

she cuts and bleeds because she cannot say

say what she needs, what she wants

if she does it will cost