13 knots upon a rope,
equivalent to the slices on my throat.
A river of blood lays on the floor,
spilling over the rug, out the bathroom door..

 Unyeilding sadness overcomes,
I think I can hear angelic hums.
With a blade on the ground,
and the rope dangling down.

 A letter written from the soul,
in a puddle it lays unwhole.
Tears on the cheeks of this broken daughter,
my heart was ripped out amidst the slaughter.

 If only I would have thought of you,
I might've been able to pull through.
If only you told me how you cared,
then I wouldn't have been scared.

 Then I would've had something to live for,
instead I dangle over the blood on the floor.
A tear drops, my last saddened breath,
now I fly with the angels of death.