Her Wrist. | Teen Ink

Her Wrist.

January 5, 2012
By Tashnia Ahmed SILVER, Jonesboro, Georgia
Tashnia Ahmed SILVER, Jonesboro, Georgia
6 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Slit her wrist, slit the pain.
Slit the words, bleed the images out her brain.
Slit the expectations that now, will never be.
Slit the memories you gave to me.
Watch the red flow, as black shadows her vision.
Watch the dreams die, too late to turn back on her decision.
Watch the moments play out like a movie scene.
Watch the shocked faces of so many when they hear about this mysterious teen.
Gaze up one more time, reply to one last text.
She closes her eyes, no idea what's gonna happen next.
The faces flash before her, the friends, the promises made.
One good slit, the promises begin to fade.
Don't judge her, don't judge her, you have no clue.
You'd probably be in the same situation if this were you.
She cried, she tried, pieces of her died.
If she sat here and said she's ok, bro she definitely lied.
Let her rest in peace, but that's not possible either.
Everyone's in her ear, "Tay please stop, take a breather".
The walls are closing in on her, the air is intoxicated.
Tears stream down her face, "she was one of the few that could've made it".
Her heart pounds, her breath becomes shallow.
17 years young, she's the opposit of callow.
A disappointment, a disgrace, a waste of time.
This isn't just a poem, look deeper into the rhyme.
"She was smiling yesterday. Hell nah I saw her at school."
That smile, sadly, took so many for a fool.
"She had potencial, she was our light."
"She was a soldier who finally gave up the fight."
She looks around, not one single face.
She's alone here, this world, this place.
Stares at the blade, sharp against her skin.
She closed her eyes, her time is thin.
The darkness took over, she's committing the greatest sin.
"Tay they love you, Tay you're my friend."
"Tay please don't leave, this isn't the end.""Tay it'll get better, I promise baby girl."
"Tay you have so much to live for, to offer the world."
"Tay don't. Tay stop."
Her friends' voices repeated, but the blade, wouldn't drop.
She stared out her window, the night was starry.
She shed one last tear and whispered
"You guys, I love you. I'm sorry."

The author's comments:
This is a little sadder poem I've written but I feel like everyone's had their time they wanted to give up. The whole idea is NOT to.

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