Her windows melt in drops of glass, why steal air if breathing hurts so much? she sinks in her pillow that’s all wet now and hides down her sheets with no one around. And she asks again why bleeding doesn’t seen to help, pouring blood down her arm she hates to stare, but she loves everything in red and soak her heart in tears of flesh. But again she faints to her lonely spot to dig a grave and carve more cuts, nothing makes her don’t fake smiles so she watches her fall deep down the ground. “its another nightmare” she says while waking up but she discovers that reality is so attached, and heavy feet resist to move, the mind feels pity of her dying soul. She lights a candle and cleans the knife, she wets her face with her own cry, she remembered all her daily life and that night the knife pierced too far. She lies now on her bedroom floor, there is only a red soaked rug, no one even walks in, she was just a forgotten fantasy…