The Past Will Never Just Be The Past

Blood splattering the walls
Painting all she felt
The way she would massacre her body
The disapproving way she dealt

A hand around the throat
A knife at the wrist
A gun to her temple
Insuring she won't miss

The emptiness
And how she just didn't belong
Nothing she did was right
Immoral and wrong

Coming off okay
And that it was alright
Shadowed by self hate
Her blinded sight

Not seeing a reason
And not believing a word
Keeping within herself
So no scream was heard