My name is Ashley, but call me Ryan.
*inbox me if you want to get to know me.*
I don't bite....hard.

home preguntas por favor? My face and shit. My RANTS..

Poem I wrote.

Tears drip off her chin,
And drop from her nose,
She hates crying like this,
She feels too exposed.
Vulnerability wide open,
As she cries a sad song,
No one to ask her what’s wrong,
No one to miss her when she’s gone.
Saddened enough, she needs a release,
She goes to her drawer, opens it, and sees,
Her bloody blade that she keeps for certain needs.
This is definitely an emergency-
So it slides over her skin and she begins to bleed.
Her blood, so red, is a sight that you have to see.
Blood drops fall, and so do her tears,
Tonight, she must push away all her fears.
She slides the blade over clean skin,
And another few lines on her thigh-
She guesses she should write out a final goodbye-
Signed with the blood of self harm,
Her suicide note was found next to her forearm.
The same arm that was cut up and crimson red-
Her body now cold and blue upon her very bed.
If people would have been nice, instead of what was said-
Her tears wouldn’t have been wasted,
Blood wouldn’t have been shed.
Finally free, she is pronounced dead.

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