Erin.
Someone asked me to describe
my beautiful sister
Erin.

So I simply replied:

Erin is my life,
clearly sent from above.
Erin is my angel
whom I love.

Erin is my life,
the angel that I need.
Erin is the angel
that stops me when I bleed.

Erin is my angel,
clearly sent from above.
Erin is my angel
whom I love.

"But why is she your angel?
Isn't she just a girl?"

To which I simply replied:

Erin is no simple girl.
She's so much more.
She's the window
when there's a shut door.

Erin is my suicidal angel,
the one with black wings.
She's the odd angel out
when it comes to all sorts of things.

Erin is my beautiful suicidal angel,
beaten legs and arms.
She's the beautiful suicidal angel
who takes my hits so I know no more harms.

"Why do you love her,
this suicidal angel of yours?"

To which I simply replied:

Those who have been raped,
who've had their mouth taped,
who've been beaten out of shape
are a family.

Erin is my angel,
suicidal and all.
She carries me with her black wings
whenever I fall.

"What does she mean to you?"

To which I simply replied:

Everything.

She's my Beautiful Suicidal Angel.