all too easy.

Blade raised, ready to rip
Those last remaining strands away
She pauses; silence dripping
Echoing off tile and glass
She thinks, for a moment, waiting,
What's the point?

Poised, she realised
No-one would care.

She could slash her skin
Til only flesh and sticky blood
Were left
And no-one would notice.

With a single slice,
She could end her life
Just like that.

Slowly, her wrist drew that sliver of sharp
Across her pale, beating veins
Beneath translucent veils
So close, that sliver of sharp lay
To bone and sinew within the clay
Of her crumbling form.

All too easy.

She grapsed it, and pressed it
To her forehead, creased with
Anger, jealousy, shame
She had let her body waste away
And her desires with it.

She felt, she had little to give
So why not give the rest?

With a single slice,
She would end her life,
Just like that.

And the silence screamed.