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The screams, to Maggie,
come from somewhere,
she has never consciously been.
Her eyes roll furiously at the sight of the blade,
as it penetrates her cold, pale flesh,
the calm is only exoteric.
Inside,
rivers of emotions flow backwards,
beating against the inside of her flesh,
seeking a way out.
The only way out is through the cuts on her wrists,
the red stained bandages,
spill the secrets she hides within.
Secrets that are burned in her memory,
from the pain,
from the rejection,
from the blame.
A simple frown,
was not enough,
she was expected to fight,
or flight,
but flight wouldn't do,
with the weight of the world on top of her.
The weight of a decision,
that will haunt her mortal being,
for the rest of her life.
It's so much easier to give in,
to surrender to the evil of the mind,
when winning becomes too distant to see,
she ends her suffering,
by releasing her secrets,
spilling them on the floor of the bathroom.
However,
the pain doesn't end there,
it continues in the loved ones,
the ones that didn't know,
the ones that didn't see.
Words may not hurt,
or do they?
An intentional voice,
throws an untruthful hurt,
but because Maggie chose not to fight,
the doer is punished with knowing,
their words hurt more than one person,
and it trickled back to them,
the pain,
the rejection
the blame.