She keeps them hidden.
Covered and forbidden.
Closed up away from the world.
She doesn't want them to see.
But then again, maybe she does.
Just what if they found them,
her burried secrets of pain.
All it would do is bring them to shame.
She doesn't want to do it,
But what else can she do?
She's so sick of the world,
and what she's going through.
She wants to stop,
but she's afraid she will drop,
for it's the only thing to keep her abode.
She cries out to the world,
but they cannot hear.
For hitting a vein would be her worst fear.
But she's had enough,
so she goes deeper, and deeper, and deeper.
Then finally she sees that this is not the way.
"Stop it!" she cries.
"Oh Jesus, where are you? I need you now"
she cries out.
As a tear rolls down her face,
she drops the knife to the ground.
So she sits in the darkness,
and she prays, and prays, and prays.
Finally she hears a voice whisper,
"I am hear now child, oh child of mine, come unto me.
For I will give you rest."
So she does as he says,
because she can finally see,
if she follows him,
then she will be set free.
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