Strength

she unsheathed the razorblade that was concealed in her lower pocket. she walked to the edge of the balcony, looking over the edge. she sat on the chair she had taken out of her house earlier. she gazed up at the nighttime stars, humming to the tune of howling wolves. she noticed the full moon hanging above her head. the night was still and the air was calm. she could she the candle flame flickering inside the glass french doors to her bedroom. she fumbled with the razorblade in her hands, not paying attention to the little scratches it engraved into her flesh. she remembered her past, and seen no future. her future is her past, she knows. she stopped playing with the blade and took it into one hand. she cripped the whole thing, cutting her hand as she squeezed it. bleeding crimson regret, she shut her eyes letting the blood flow through her fingers onto the ground. she seen her life before her dark eyes that are now clear with the silver night. she looked towards the stars for guidance. she saw many stars flashing in the night. she dared not look at the razorblade, but the stars reflected off of it. visions of her loved ones passed through and she threw the razorblade off of the balcony into the lake below.