She is sick..

She walks alone,
No one to stop what
Has been coming.
No one can stop what
is coming. She is
sick. Sick with envy,
pain, and anger.

Sick of having to face
the bullies each day.
Sick of the lack of
encouragement.
She is sick.

She is tired of the
fighting between
mom and dad.
She is sick.

She takes the razor,
hiding itself under her
pillow. Waiting for the
right time to stretch a
bloody scar. She is sick.

She paces herself with
even cuts. Back and
fourth. She is so sick,
she needs to cut until
she is no more. She is
sick.

A gushing waterfall
flows from her wrist.
In agony, she writhes,
and twists.

She is not
sick anymore...