Never will one look into me - only unto me, then they look away.

Trapt
It is the deathly freezing chill down the nape of her neck,
the pounding in her head slowly driving her insane,
knawing at her brain slowly killing her.
All alone in her dark room the walls are caving in.
The pain is getting to her
soaking in her skin....
She grabbed a knife, longest of the bunch.
Without any thought,
she slowly slit her throat.
She lay still in her crimson blood,
her soul not pure enough for heaven.
Yet,
not evil enough for hell.
She just couldn't free herself from the cruel and painful world.

-Brandy Armstrong