It is
Cliche
Now
The bathroom floor
Girl sits
Wanting to rip off her
skin,
Climb inside
another,
Wash the
filth
away.
Scrub until you
bleed
The cold
bathroom
door
The only sensation
As her heart
has
died.
Numb
inside
Obliterated
Insides
scooped out
Like melon seeds.
Nothing
left,
annihilation
complete.
Now
void
of
identity
Soul
stripped away
The world
no longer
turning.
Life
stops
still.
Empty
void
remains.
Frozen
In time,
Twelve years old
The girl on the
bathroom
floor
healing comes in waves 
Reminded me of the song you wrote. ‘On the floor of the bathroom, it feels like the end’
A song of hope no doubt ‘It’s going to be okay, you will make it through.
I love how compelling your words are. It gets right to the soul of the matter.
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