He walks down the street,
Kicking a pebble.
Thoughts running through his mind,
Making his pulse tremble.
He always knew this day would come,
A day when he was all alone.
But the thing about him is,
From the beginning he had known.
His mother was dead,
Run over by a car.
His father committed suicide,
Leaving an open scar.
One that would never heal,
No matter how much help he got.
His blades made of steel,
Were the only cure for his clot.
He ran blades down his arms,
Like racers on a highway.
But deep inside he knew,
He should disobey.
For the knifes had promised secrets,
Of taking away his pain.
But they only increased his anxiety,
Making him complain.
His heart was already shattered,
Lying on the floor in pieces.
A girl he loved cheated on him,
He'd soon need a prosthesis.
With his family all gone,
He had no where to stay.
Thinking about his mom,
He decided to die today.
