The blade clatters to the floor,
drops of scarlet pepper
the worn linoleum
(see that particular spot?
it's from her relentless pacing)


She slides to the floor,
blood gushing from her wrist
in a steady flow
like a river stained
by the setting sun
(only this time
it's not as pretty)



Head thrown back,
laughter wrenched from
her hoarse throat
as she continues to bleed
(there's no one there
to staunch the flow
of blood this time)


Memories, all bad
flow her wrist
in time with
each pulse of her heart
(it's starting to feel nice
she's on her way out
like so many times before,
all failed)