Demons are real they live in our minds

Again

The blade sits there at her rist
She breaths in and slides it down
The harder she pushes and draggs
The more relief she feels
The more blood is drawn and soaked away into the water
She sits there in a bath full of blood water and tears
She is numb to pain of the blade
As it cuts deeper
The more she does it the more she loses
She moves from her rist to her thighs
She losing too much
Soon her eyes close to never open again