I see a girl,
Lying on a bed,
Bleeding on the sheets,
Staining them red.

I see a boy,
Lying on the floor,
Gun in his hand,
Message by the door.

Together they were one,
Connected as a pair.
But she was depressed,
And nobody cared.

Except for the boy,
Who captured her heart.
She didn't know what to do,
Or where to start.

He stole all her fears,
All the worries and lies.
He took them away,
And hid them inside.

She knew it would happen,
Though came so fast.
She broke down in tears,
And remembered the past.

The past became present,
As she dealt with her life.
The razor's out once more,
Along with the knife.

The deeper the cut,
The more blood she shed.
So long since she's seen it,
Seen the crimson red.

The boy know nothing of it,
Nothing of the scars,
Which had been opened once again,
After coming so far.

When he found her,
He collapsed in tears,
And started screaming questions,
To a thing that could not hear.

Then he took a pen, a gun,
And a piece of paper,
Wrote three little words
And pulled the trigger.

©2007 His Little Firefly