A Way Out

Rain runs down the window

like the tears sliding down her cheek.

Blood stains the porcelin skin of her wrist.

She looks but she doesn't see.

She hears but she doesn't listen.

The empty fathoms within herself slowly

grow deeper with every passing day.

As every hour passes she dies a little

more inside. She screams into the night

but no one hears her, comes to save her.

She looks to a razor, alchohol, and drugs

for comfort but they bring her none.

She finds her way out, her way to be

seemingly happy. Swinging from the ceiling

like a metronome.