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by loversdismiss Aug 20, 2007 category : Sadness, depression / about death
I picked up the razor, and took off the blade. this is not what was supposed to happen but my future is now made. all my pain is now gone. my blood starts to drip, my soul won't go on. as my body lays there, people walk past it. they dont bother to look, they dont bother to care.