Dying
by Aryanna Frank
Those twisted screams and pleas fill the air
I take my razor and slowly slice my wrist
Why is it that hurting yourself relives pain
Is this my only choice?
I look outside and wish that they didn't send me here,that I wasn't in a asylum,that I was outside with my few friends but no
I let blood pool onto the bed sheets and closed my eyes
Where Death awaits me