Untitled

The words "I love you,"
Are carved in his arm.
Still bleeding over old scars,
The products of self-harm.

His body motionless on the floor,
His blood is all around.
The boys head still bleeding,
From a shot that made no sound.

In one hand held the gun,
In the other hand held a note.
"I'm sorry I'm not perfect,"
Was the last line he wrote.

A few hours later she found him,
She's the girl that caused it all.
She dropped to her knees in tears,
Slowly starting to fall.

Now they rest in peace,
As they forever asleep.
That night she took her life,
With a few cuts so deep.

In her last moments,
She added to the letter.
"My words are to late,
Sorry I couldn't make things better."

"I know you weren't perfect,
But I loved you with all my heart."
"I didn't mean to push you so far,
didn't mean for us to part."

"I'll love you forever,"
Was the last line on the paper.
His body was in her arms,
When the parents found them later.