Long Sleeves

February 25, 2010
By , Aurora, CO
What's wrong with her?
Why's she crying?
How come she can't speak?
She's slowly dieing.
Walking in the halls.
Rushing past her.
Afraid that she'll fall.
Faster and faster.

Pity inside, As she pulls out the bottle.
And chugs the tequila.
My words come out muddled.
I just had sit there and watch,
while she destroyed her own life.
Dispensing of her own blood,
with a bloody knife.
Wanting to calm.
Wanting to destroy rigidness.
Can't do anything,
for it's none of my business.

Why can't I comfort?
Why can't I see?
Why's she crying?
Why the long sleeves?

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