Too Late

May 24, 2010
By , Brandon, FL
As I stand here,
Heart filled with sorrow,
I know its too late to save her.
Her time was running short,
There was nothing I could have done.
She had given up completely.

The end was too near
And coming way to fast
Life, I'm afraid is a delicate thing,
But hers was a total wreck.
She was not only lost in the world,
But also completely lost in her own life.

So, she started to run,
All the while not knowing where to go.
All she knew is she'd be gone,
Had to be gone, forever.
I tried to stop her,
Tried to save her from herself,
But those efforts seem pointless now.

Her life, and the mess it was,
Was coming to an end,
But it certainly wouldn't be an accident.
She had finally taken her life into her hands,
But unfortunatly for her,
No one knew how much time was left.

She knew what she had to do,
And how to do it.
She knew what she was doing
As she dragged her fingers on the walls,
Causing them to bleed black...
Black, like the blood filled tears
That streamed down her cheeks,
Like unspoken words,
Staining her face.
To her, life wasn't worth living anymore.

She had suffered
Pain and depression,
Her entire life.
Yet no one ever knew what to do.
Everyone tried to help,
The best they could...
But she was far to misunderstood.

I watched her helplessly,
Watched as she slowly fell apart,
Breaking, from the inside, out.
Until the day she completely broke down,
The day she finally decided
That she was done with life.

That day, she went home quietly,
And locked herself in the bathroom.
She wrote notes
To say her final goodbyes.
Then, she took that beautiful razor to her wrist,
Its silky side, cold against the tearing flesh.
That beautiful piece of metal
Was her sweet release from life.
And she made herself a bloodbath.

Then, she was done.
She had finally given up,
Finally had enough.
She had always felt so alone,
It was finally the end.
Taking her life
Had been her decision,
No one could have stopped her.
Her life had been over with for a while,
And I couldn't have stopped her.

Now, I'm standing here
With unspoken regrets staining my cheeks.
And I am waiting for the break down to hit.
It's over, and done...
So, why does it still hurt so much?
Standing by her grave now,
I feel it's my fault somehow.
Like, I could have done more for her.
Like I could have done more
To stop her.

But for now
I'll just wait,
Until my lungs fill with blood.
I'll sit down,
Shut up, and wait
For the breakdown.

When it hits,
The sweet release is

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