Hidden in the back of a dark room of people; the holiday cheer the happiness the love. Her hands are stained with her tears, with her blood, with the blood of the ones who hurt her. The ones who did not see her, the ones who saw and laughed, the ones who swore and ridiculed. She burries her head in her hands letting the pain wash her away. A bright light a shine a slash of a blade. Let the rest of her blood flow. Let her blood be washed away by the rain. Let her soul be carried away by the pain. Let her blood stains be covered up. Let her great pain be forgotten. Let her be forgotten. Let me be forgotten.