Sickly Crimson Portrait

Her world grew dark.
Shadows closing in.
Her fear out of control.
Breathing in quick gasps.

All because of that.
The sleek shiny metal,
Glistening, her ray of hope?
Unlikely, only dragging her down.

It solved her problems,
Fuelled her dreams,
Lightened her day,
But scarred her night.

The cold hands tightened,
She, no longer in control,
Dragging the metal, across her wrist.
Every moment, so callous, so bold.

Her body was the canvas,
The blood was her paint,
The pain her motivation,
Fuelled by desire and hate.

Her sickly crimson portrait,
Painted on her wrist.
Shows the world she's hurting,
The pain no one knew exists.

In the dark she lies.
Waiting to be saved.
The world is closing in now,
Lost inside this maze.

Trapped behind the door.
Locked without a key.
Hidden is her passage,
She's hidden from you and me.

Cold her hands are getting now.
Her arms and legs too.
Soon she'll say goodbye,
Even if you don't want her (me) to.

A.N… Plz R&R, means a lot.