Death of a poet

She hides in her room
Among her books
Poetry is her refuge
It helps her get through life
She doesn't know what she would do without it
And then one day it is gone
She searches her room
Her beloved poetry is nowhere to be found
And then she sees it
The shreds of her feelings
Lying in a garbage can
She cries out in vain
Suddenly overcome with emotion
And nowhere to let it out
So she grabs a blade
And cuts her wrist
The rivers of crimson flow
Nonstop
She can't make it stop
The rivers keep flowing
She begs and pleads
She says she doesn't want to leave
But she is getting weak
She can no longer speak
She just cries
And tries to dry her eyes
And she stops crying
Her eyes close
And the river no longer flows