I’m sick of being compared to her
She’s not all that great...
You left a bruise on my face
It seems you were born to fight...
I shall slit my wrist
For the last time today...
Unloved again
Broken and abused...
My tears show the suffering
That i can no longer hide...
With slits in my wrists
I climb a cliff 60 feet tall...
I’m sitting here reading
All of my suicide notes...
I’ll scream my silent screams
And cry my hidden tears...
Her silent screams deafen me
Her burning tears scorch my skin...
It’s been nine months today,
And I don’t think I can move on...
I feel the anger rising,
It’s about to hit the top...
Its 1948
31st of July...