She was haunted by the past,

She felt rotten deep inside,

She spent her days in a numb bubble,

Wishing she’d already died.

But she couldn’t quite do it,

Couldn’t end her life herself,

So settled for the lesser evil;

The razor sat on her shelf.

Now she’d have to wear long sleeves,

And hide her arms from her friends,

But if, for another day, her life

Was to be without an end,

Instead there had to be a moment of ease.