A death so remorse

But yet as soft as a flower bed

Knowing she could have stopped after 12 pills

But she did more

36 pills was the exact number

The lie of it getting better

She knew not to take the easy route

Talking to a friend could have helped

But her pain and suffering could never come to an end

Death was looming over her like a gloomy day

Breath by breath she knew it was her last

But the soft bed she sleep in

The afterlife has alway been thought as a mere myth

She lie so no one know she is hurting

Laying softly on the cold tile floor

The lie spewing on the outside

But on the inside a stench of death will remain with the girls soul