I saw her depressed like never before She was a broken heart crying on the bathroom floor Blood was dripping from her hands and self-inflicted wounds She was masking the world within her cocoon To overcome the crippling sadness brought by her loss, Cuts had to be made to signify a double-cross She was no saint, nor human, but a witch Whom was collecting vials of blood and of tears for a spell to pitch She cast her spell and there he was beside me Another man who had wronged the wrong and now, is serving as bathroom toiletry