Blank Notebook
1
Her blank notebook tells her story.
Between each page is the space left from where her heart was. The empty pages are from successfully erasing her past with harmful and carefree ways. The page corners are sharp, resembling the pain she has caused everyone, and how easily she can do it again. The blue lines are like her veins, running so strictly across the page, interrupted by red lines. These look so much like what her arms did, blue rivers of oxygen-rich blood slashed with bright red lines that flow from top to bottom. The spiral that held the pages together was her baby boy, who was accidentally conceived after a particularly wild fling. But, the perforation on each page shows how easily she could break parts of her life away, never realizing they aren't replaceable. The three holes on the left side are just like the three chances she had, but blew through to find nothing but the end. She tried to show someone what happened, showing them the story she wrote down, but everyone erased parts and cut out others, never taking her seriously. So, this is her story on the last piece of scarred and bloody notebook she left behind when she took her life, cutting too deep one night to try and get the hungry baby to just shut up.
This piece of paper was her whole life.
Between each page is the space left from where her heart was. The empty pages are from successfully erasing her past with harmful and carefree ways. The page corners are sharp, resembling the pain she has caused everyone, and how easily she can do it again. The blue lines are like her veins, running so strictly across the page, interrupted by red lines. These look so much like what her arms did, blue rivers of oxygen-rich blood slashed with bright red lines that flow from top to bottom. The spiral that held the pages together was her baby boy, who was accidentally conceived after a particularly wild fling. But, the perforation on each page shows how easily she could break parts of her life away, never realizing they aren't replaceable. The three holes on the left side are just like the three chances she had, but blew through to find nothing but the end. She tried to show someone what happened, showing them the story she wrote down, but everyone erased parts and cut out others, never taking her seriously. So, this is her story on the last piece of scarred and bloody notebook she left behind when she took her life, cutting too deep one night to try and get the hungry baby to just shut up.
This piece of paper was her whole life.