Pencil in her hand thoughts upon the paper she draws to escape turning all distraught into vapor drawn with perfection to rid dysphoric thoughts of all the minds tricking alterations to this young girl twas a place to call home, twas a place for her, and for her alone.
So weary with grief she tries to keep up her mind becomes stricken which plants her in a rut the pencil, her friend her minds releasing amend will draw her a place to a place of play all to this childs mind will draw her far away.
Fingers relax, pencil drops to the floor tranquility found all thoughts are at the door
Away from the hurt and from the tears now at peace in this secret place to conceal all her fears for why live a life striving to survive all is better now, in a simple art of suicide.
Faeteeth · Fri Oct 17, 2008 @ 07:48am · 0 Comments |