The scars on her wrists were purple and dark
On her skin they had left their mark
I kissed her lips and stroke her cheek
Asked her why she didn't speak
She looked at me with tears in her eyes
Those tears that I so deeply despise
And so I took her hands in mine
Thought that she was still divine
Once again I kissed her lips
Touched her ice cold fingertips
I knew the illness that she denied
Was killing her from the inside
amanda teresa
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wrists/
