Is living a happy healthy life even imaginable...

I take out a paper and pen
i scribble your name...

My ears bleed
this silence is getting loud...

Dear Heart,
i died a little when he called me pretty...

And i would give up everything i have
just to be happy again...

Like a slave,
not black but white...

No chances but this being blown like this bullet...

I am that book on that shelf
in the back with the dust...

Her pain is dark
the light has gone out...

The tears fall down
when they hit the ground...

Her arm a tree
being carved...

The world does not accept that behind ever pretty...
sure you may have some good memories. but it isn't...