There she is.
She's sitting in her room.
The door closed from the outside.
All alone in her own world.

Her right hand is holding a knife.
Her left hand is laying on her desk.
She's staring at her wrist.
Thinking : " should I be doing this? "

Then she thinks about the hurt.
She's filled with pain and unhappiness.
She's feeling hate and anger towards herself.
She's filled with stress.

Enough reasons to hurt herself.
She's feeling the cold knife on her wrist.
She cuts her skin and starts to cry.
Her arm began to bleed.

She's looking at her wrist.
Thinking : " should I be doing this? "