She watches the blood gather on her arm
Tiny red pearls
Worn as battle scars for the fight within
Each cut a little deeper than the first
Beauty in horror in her sight
She’s a 20 year old recovering alcoholic
On the bathroom floor
Trying to slow the bloodflow
Unwilling to stop cutting
Because life is frustrating
He finds her
Curled up in a pool of blood and tears
But she’s already gone
