She watched as the crimson color
stained everything it touched.
A decision she'd later lie and
say she made in a moments rush.

Why did this type of pain feel like freedom
and the other pain she'd suffered
feel like a straight shot to
the Devil's kingdom?

disguises covering up lies
Addictions become vices.

She's so exhausted pretending
She wishes someone knew
her well enough to see inside she's dying

But they won't because she doesn't let anyone in.
She holds in her heart pain and disappointment
She can't survive another hit of broken.