You're begging me
to throw up all my beliefs...
I can't sleep,
so I can't dream...
You're a line
and I'm a string...
Once, twice
I begged for death...
It started with a virgin red rose,
in the beginning of spring...
-Note: This poem is for an in club challenge where...
I observed...
Cutting like a razor, the silence takes hold
Replacing this artificial confidence with nothing...
Lying in my own pool of blood,
feels like heaven in this crimson mud...
Hold on tight
Hide under your blanket...
No one talks to her, she feels so alone
And shes in to much pain to survive on her own...
You're feelin' sick, 'cause
your stomach is sprawled all over thin ice...
It's a little bit darker,
hiding on the other side...