Way past the skin
Marking deep in her arm
Way into the muscles
Those shadowed trenches are
The darkness won today
Though she fought to not to slice
After five hundred and forty days
Her fears have come to bite
Cut her arm deep
She did desparately
she's ashamed as she weeps
And the trenches are stitched
A railroad scar t'will be
And the next five-forty days; ashamed
Her tears have found release
Morning has dawned
Noon has passed; she awakes
Regret weighs hard on her
Bandaged arm throbs and aches
And broken heart the same
A day later, since she has relapsed
Her regret; does God hear?
The trenches deep
Though her remorse deeper
As the voices whisper
Selfish monster she is
She cries her rage and shame
For hours upon end; and then
Listens to words of death
